Broken Mirror
by theicemenace
Summary: What does a man do when he looks back at his life and sees a broken mirror?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Massive spoiler for the episode "Sunday."

As always, many thanks to ladygris for reading over this chapter though her fav character dies.

Namaste,

~Sandy

**Broken Mirror**

**Chapter One**

Ringing bells awakened him from an uneasy sleep. No, that was wrong. There _were_ no bells. They were in his head, or rather his ears. He concentrated and bit by bit the ringing faded away until he could hear voices. Sort of. They sounded like they were talking under water at first. Eventually, he could distinguish individual tones, one tentative, the other strong and confident yet tinged with anxiety.

"The good news is he may need only a few skin grafts."

_Keller._

"And the _bad_ news?"

_Elizabeth._

The voices moved away and he could no longer hear what they were saying. Or maybe they hadn't moved and something was wrong with his hearing. But that couldn't be right because he could hear other things. The beeping of the heart monitor, the soft susurrations of the oxygen being pushed into his lungs through the nasal cannula, footsteps. The heavy tread of men and the lighter ones of women all wearing rubber soled footwear. And breathing. His and someone else's. Several someone elses.

His sense of touch returned slowly and he realized he was on his right side covered with crisp cotton sheets that were touching him yet not, held away from his body by being draped over the rails. Moving his left hand just enough to touch his chest he encountered no scrubs or gown. Most of the hair on his chest was gone, replaced by bandages and rough skin that stung when he touched it. He also felt the heart monitor and an elastic bandage around his ribs.

Struggling to remember what had happened that would've put him here in this condition made him none the wiser because the drugs going into the I.V. in his right hand were making his mind fuzzy. _Morphine._

He tried to roll onto his back and was prevented from doing so by a stack of pillows. When he reached back to move them, pain shot up and down his left side and the muscles in his back contracted, objecting to the abuse. Gritting his teeth to keep from crying out, he finally opened his eyes. Blinking rapidly, he was confused when blackness greeted him. _Is the power out? No. The computer's being used._

Moving slower this time, he brought his hand up to find the upper half of his face also covered in bandages. Feeling around, he encountered the edges of the gauze secured with paper tape and the EEG leads affixed to his temples. Touching the skin around the bandages, he again hissed in pain, the areas feeling as if he'd been badly sunburned. Continuing around to the side, he felt the bumps of blisters and the short rough hairs on the side of his head where the hair had been cut.

Moving up to the top of his head, he breathed a small sigh of relief that most of his hair was intact except for a few missing patches that were tender. His questing fingers found a lump on the side of his head. As if that were the impetus he needed, his memory came flooding back.

He saw himself, still in his dark blue golf shirt and chinos, surging with hope when Rodney tells him he broke Carson's lockout code. Running out the door, he hit the override to keep Ronon from following. Taking the stairs three at a time, he rushed to get to Carson before the tumor he'd removed from James Watson exploded. What he'd do when he got there, he had no idea, but he had to try.

_Up ahead he heard the creak of the wheels as the blast containment receptacle was maneuvered out of the lift._

"_We just made the handoff."_

_Hearing Carson's voice in his headset as well as his uncovered ear told him he was close, just a few more meters and… He reached the corner just as an explosion pushed at him. Instinctively he raised his left arm to protect his face, but he'd still been facing into it when the white hot light surged overloading his vision. The concussive force lifted him into the air and slammed him against a wall. _

In his mind, he saw himself fall though he had to have been unconscious when he hit the floor. Hot debris cascaded down, some of it landing on him, burning his clothes, hair and skin. Those areas throbbed as his memory reminded him of the events that put him where he was now.

_Sonofa*****! Why'd you have to…_

The sound of feet whispering over the floor of the Infirmary stopped his thoughts in their tracks for the moment. "Hello? Anyone there?"

~~O~~

Jennifer and Elizabeth conferred in quiet tones as the medical doctor gave her prognosis for John's recovery. "He has first, second and third degree burns on the left side of his body from his hip to the underside of his arm as well as on his scalp and back. His back isn't broken, thank God, but he does have a few bruised ribs on the right side. The concussion isn't as bad as I thought it would be considering how hard he hit the wall."

"What about…"

"Dr. Keller! He's awake!"

Marie's voice interrupted the two women, both of them rushing to John's bedside, Elizabeth crossing her arms. "John, can you hear me?"

"Yes, I can hear you, Elizabeth." He grunted in pain when he tried to roll onto his back again. "What the _hell's_ goin' on?"

Jennifer glanced at the VS monitor then back to John's face. Even knowing he couldn't see her, she kept her doctor's mask firmly in place. She didn't know John well, but she'd been around the military enough to know not to show fear or let it be heard in her voice. "You were injured in an explosion, Colonel."

"I _got_ that." His voice was slightly raspy from the breathing tube he'd had for a short time. "How long?"

"You've been out for three days." She gave him a quick rundown of his injuries, ending with, "…the blindness was caused by oversaturation of the retinal pigment as well as corneal scarring."

"But I'll be able to see again, right?"

Jennifer hesitated. "It's possible that the tissue will heal on its own. But it may not. We won't know for a couple of weeks." He seemed to accept the vagueness of the prognosis though she knew better.

"Where's Beckett? How badly is he hurt?"

Just for a moment she let the anguish in then pushed it away willing herself not to cry. "I'm sorry, Colonel. Dr. Beckett didn't make it. Nor did Captain Wilkerson."

John was silent so long she thought he wasn't going to speak. When he did, his voice was quiet as he hid the grief Jennifer knew he must be feeling. He grasped the top bar of the safety rail pulling himself up onto his right elbow. "Where's the body? Take me to him. I want to see for myself." The women didn't respond immediately. "Doc? Elizabeth?"

"I…" Jennifer couldn't continue.

Elizabeth looked at the floor reluctant to voice the truth but knew it had to be told. "There's nothing left, John. Not of Carson _or_ Captain Wilkerson. The explosion was stronger than the one that killed Hewston and injured Teyla. Rodney's team is checking for structural damage and beginning repairs on the corridor as we speak."

The shock on John's face as he slowly lay down again was painful to watch. He'd never been one to let his stronger emotions show and seeing it now… Jennifer took his hand to show him the call button. "We're gonna let you rest. Just call if you need something." John didn't respond as Jennifer pulled the privacy certain around his bed. She gave Marie a few whispered instructions, exchanged a glance with Elizabeth then went to her office while Elizabeth strode purposefully from the Infirmary.

~~O~~

From her bed, Teyla listened to Elizabeth telling John that Carson had been killed. She rolled over onto her right side allowing silent tears to wet the pillow. Footsteps neared and she closed her eyes pretending to be asleep. The nurse adjusted the I.V., lifted the edge of her scrub top to check the bandages, tapped information into the bedside monitor and left again.

Reaching through the bars, she took a tissue from the box and used it to wipe the tears from her eyes. A futile gesture as they were immediately replaced by more. She thought about how empty she felt knowing that Carson would no longer be a part of her life going forward. Coming to the Infirmary would be difficult knowing he wouldn't be here with his gentle smile and lilting accent.

~~O~~

In her office again, Elizabeth powered up her workstation and began composing the speeches she'd give at the memorial services. While most of her mind was focused on the loss of her friend, as the leader of the expedition, she knew she had to say something about Lenny Wilkerson as well. He hadn't been on Atlantis long so she didn't know him well except what she read in his file. With his pristine military record and the amount of knowledge of explosives he possessed, he'd been at the top of the list to replace Cadman when she rotated back to Earth.

She'd run into him in the Mess Hall a few times and they'd talked about life in Pegasus and the possibility of him training as a backup for offworld missions. And in those times, she'd found him to be quite intelligent, pleasant to talk to and a little more knowledgeable about art than average. He didn't paint like Major Lorne or create jewelry that were works of art in themselves like Aylanna, or even tap dance like his predecessor though he did have an eye for beauty as well as whimsy. He always had a smile for everyone, except Kavanagh, and she didn't blame him there.

At one time he'd been married but his wife had passed away from cancer a few months after their wedding. Though she'd seen him talking to some of the single women on the base, he didn't seem to be interested in anything more than friendship.

But Lenny did deserve to be remembered and she would do him justice at his service.

When she could put it off no longer, Elizabeth opened a new document and sat there, fingers resting on the keys but not moving, her eyes focused on a spot nearly three years in the past to the day she'd met then-Major John Sheppard. With a wry grin, she recalled how Carson had nearly blown up the chopper in which John and General O'Neill had been flying.

The Ancient equipment and weapons used not only the ATA gene but a mental component as well, and Carson had been frightened of the fact that he'd had the strongest gene on the base. At least until John had come along. It had been that fear that had sent the drone out into the cold morning sky though Carson had managed to calm down enough to shut it off before anyone had gotten hurt.

And the look on Carson's face when Rodney, in the process of changing into a super-evolved human, had used the medical doctor to demonstrate his ability to levitate objects nearly made her laugh out loud.

Instead of writing an epitaph for her friend, Elizabeth opened the staff files for medical, tabbing through several before she came to the one she wanted. Jennifer Keller had been acting as Carson's unofficial second-in-command since her arrival several months ago. She was young though she did have all the qualities that the chief medical officer needed. Her surgical skills had been proven time and time again as well as her diagnostics expertise. And she wasn't arrogant about her abilities like many doctors. When it came down to it, Elizabeth knew she would stand by her principles and not let anyone push her around.

Working had done for her what running did for John. It helped keep her from laying her head on the desk and crying until she couldn't cry anymore. Mike Branton had come by with the offer of coffee and talk. She'd politely yet firmly declined and he'd been understanding. Too understanding.

Afraid she'd hurt his feelings, that she was avoiding him after their date and the sweet kisses they'd shared, Elizabeth shut down her computer and slipped into her jacket. She felt like talking now, and knew just where to find him.

~~O~~

"Rodney?"

"Yeah?" The physicist looked up when Radek called his name. From the look on his face, the Czech had called him several times before he'd responded. "What?"

His eyes filled with sympathy, Radek touched Rodney on the arm. "Are you alright?"

"Why?" Rodney's voice was soft lacking the usual power and arrogance, his features without the scowl he put on with his clothes in the morning and took off at night.

"You've been staring at your tablet for ten minutes." Gently but firmly, Radek pulled the computer from his friend's hands. "Leave this to us and go rest."

"Uh…okay. Call me if…" He didn't finish his thought. Just turned and walked away from the charred walls, floors and ceiling of the corridor where his best friend had been killed a few days before. Not watching where he was going, Rodney ended up at Carson's quarters. In front of the door stood Ronon, his arms crossed and his scowl in place.

The two friends shared a glance, Rodney looking away when his eyes began to sting with unshed tears. Without a word, he chose another corridor and kept walking until he reached the door leading to the East pier. The _Daedalus_ wasn't due for at least a week so it was safe to linger.

He moved over to the spot that Carson loved the best, especially at sunset. From here, the sun fell straight down as if disappearing into the water where it would rest until morning, bursting into the sky from the other side of the world. Sunset was his favorite because it meant that they'd all survived another day of battling the Wraith, Asurans, Genii, rogue Asgard, and whatever else might be out there.

Guilt surrounded Rodney, making him sway with the breeze. "I'm sorry, Carson. I should've…" The wind picked up a little bringing with it a light mist and the tang of salt water.

_No worries, Rodney. Tell Mum my last thoughts were of her._

"I will."

~~O~~

In the Satedan tradition, Ronon stood guard over Carson's home to prevent looting. Not much of a problem here in Atlantis, but he knew of no other way to honor his friend. Later, he'd mourn in private, but this time was about honoring the dead and here he would stand for another seven hours. And when the memorial ended, he and Carson's other friends would carry him home to his family.

It mattered not that there wasn't a body as long as the Beckett family had something of his to see and touch. As nothing remained of his body, they would have to be content with possessions. Ronon had already chosen the items he would take for Carson's family. One for each of his six older sisters and one for his mother. Something cherished by the man who'd been a great doctor and an even better friend.

~~O~~

When he was alone again, John let the worst of the memories wash over him. Memories and the bright light of guilt that he hadn't been able to save Carson.

His friend had been consumed by fire so hot that nothing of his physical body had survived. When his coffin was carried home to be buried in the family plot, it would be empty. His mother and sisters would not be able to have a final glimpse of the man they loved. No closure. No good-byes. Nothing. Just white satin that would never bear the imprint of a body lying in repose, and a small pillow upon which no head would lay.

And while the bandages hid the evidence, John wept.

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

**Broken Mirror**

**Chapter Two**

Standing in the middle of his CO's quarters, Evan resisted looking around until his curiosity got the better of him. To his right was the bed that hadn't been slept in for several days, the sheets still tight enough to bounce a quarter. Beside it the dresser had few personal items on it. A comb and brush and a crystal bowl that looked like it may have been a gift, probably from his family smiling at him from the one photo in the room. Looking closer he could see the bowl was filled with the lollipops John seemed to crave at odd times.

A poster of Johnny Cash hung in a place of honor above the bed. His guitar and surf board were close by. A lounge chair sat near the window where he could sit to relax and listen to some tunes on his personal laptop. It was still open, long ago gone into power saver mode. He shut it off, turning at a thud coming from the bathroom. "You okay in there, sir?"

John's voice came through the door, his tone annoyed but whether at the question or the situation, Evan couldn't tell. Most likely some of both. "_I'm __blind__, Major. Not helpless_." The door opened and John came out in his dress blues, a pair of aviators partially covering the bandages over his eyes. Still very sore from the burns down his left side and the impact with the wall, his steps were slow and painful. He held out the tie in Evan's general direction. "Can't tie it right."

Evan took the tie and with a slight hesitation, flipped up the collar of John's light blue shirt and slipped the long strip of cloth around his neck. Having done this hundreds of times himself, it took only a few seconds for him to finish. He tightened the knot, flipped down the collar and snugged the knot into place. Taking a step back, Evan removed the jacket from the hangar. "All done. Ready for the jacket?"

"Ready to be able to do this myself, Major." Still, he held out one arm and Evan obligingly helped him put it on. John settled the dark blue cloth on his shoulders and buttoned the front. "How do I look?"

Evan adjusted the pins on the lapels and straightened the name badge. "All set."

"What about my hair?" Unable to stop the snort of amusement, Evan was glad to see his CO smile for the first time since the incident. "Very _funny_. Let's just go."

John held his right hand out in front of him taking a few tentative steps. "Don't worry, sir. I used to do this for my Aunt Sylvie. We can do it one of two ways. You can hold onto my shoulder or my arm."

"Shoulder. Don't want anyone to think we're on a date."

Though John couldn't see it, Evan grinned. "No, sir." He picked up his and John's duffle bags from beside the door and led him out into the hall. "Sure you wanna do this?" It was a strange sensation, looking at his CO and knowing he might never be able to see again.

"Rather not talk about it, Major."

"Yes, sir. Here's the transporter."

~~O~~

Without his sight to assist him, John had to rely on his other senses, and Evan, to let him know what was going on. Before they reached the Gate Room, they'd been joined by Ronon, Radek, Teyla, Amanda Cole and Rodney.

Up ahead he could hear the hushed voices of the expedition still in shock at the loss of life to a device created by a race long dead. A few could be heard sniffling and still others were openly crying.

The anger he felt toward the Ancients was muted by his grief though he took great pains not to show either in front of the others. As the head of the military, it was his place to set an example and he would.

"Stand here, sir. McKay is to your left. The…coffin is straight ahead as is Dr. Weir."

He didn't respond, just stood in place waiting for the services to begin. Though he was as certain as he could be that he wasn't being stared at, he still felt eyes on him. Part of it he knew was his imagination because two of those eyes were Carson's, his blue eyes downcast and his face filled with sadness. An upsurge of guilt joined the grief and anger making him want to go to his quarters and hide.

_If I'd gotten there sooner…_

Part of John told himself that he might be dead too not to mention Ronon and Rodney if he hadn't locked in the lab so they couldn't follow. But another bigger part spoke louder, adding Carson's name to a lengthy list. A list of people he'd let down and were dead because he wasn't fast enough, strong enough or smart enough to help them.

_When the time comes, you'll have to explain to God each and every death under your command. What will you say? How will you justify…_

John's self-recriminations broke off when Elizabeth began to speak.

"We've said goodbye to a lot of friends today. Our mission is a dangerous one. We lose people-a fact we're all painfully aware of. But Carson was…" She trailed off for several seconds, temporarily lost for words. "I can't remember anyone coming to me with a complaint against him-ever. He was a kind soul. He was…he was a healer and he will be very deeply missed. George Fabricius said, 'Death comes to us all, but great achievements, they build a monument which shall endure until the sun grows cold.'" Her voice broke and John wished he could comfort her. "Every single life Carson saved is a monument to him. And that gives me great comfort."

But it didn't comfort John. A good man, a healer, was dead and it was his fault. The bagpipes began to play and he did his best to stand at attention until Ronon guided him forward and put his hand on the handle of the coffin softly whispering directions. Reaching out his left hand, he put it on Rodney's shoulder feeling the tension. He wanted to comfort his friend, but again he had no idea how to go about it. Instead he just used Rodney as a guide.

His left side and back screamed in pain when he lifted the coffin with the others and walked forward into the event horizon. Stumbling slightly when they reached the ramp at the SGC, he felt Ronon's strong hand steady him until they reached the bottom.

The physical pain eased somewhat as the coffin was placed on a cart for transport but the emotional pain remained and likely would for some time. Maybe forever.

"Colonel Sheppard. Sorry for your loss."

Landry's voice came from in front of him. Try as he might, he couldn't force his posture to straighten. "Thank you, General."

"It was a shock to all of us who knew Dr. Beckett."

A hand came to rest on the back of John's right shoulder. Rodney. "Not _half_ the shock it was to _us_. Can we just get on the road? We don't want to drag this out." He used his "I don't want to talk about it" voice. John hoped the General would understand and give the physicist some slack.

"Of course. A transport has been prepared. We'll have the coffin placed onboard immediately. Sergeant Harriman will show you the way."

John rested his hand on Rodney's shoulder again, faltering at first when they started to move. In his mind, John could see the layout of the complex, silently counting the steps from the Gate Room to the lift, then from the lift to the tarmac.

When they reached the plane, Rodney showed him the handrail before going up the stairs after Amanda. Behind him, Ronon stayed close. "You're at the top."

A pair of gentle yet strong hands took his right. "I've got you, Colonel." Amanda led him to a seat, waited for him to get comfortable then sat beside him. "How're you feeling?" Without turning in her direction, he shrugged. "Don't tell me. You feel like crap?"

He allowed one side of his mouth to lift. "I would have to feel _better_ to feel like crap, Doc."

She shifted in her seat and a moment later he heard her seatbelt click. Before she could do it for him, if she had the notion to do so, he buckled his own. A light, clean fragrance wafted past his nose. He followed it to the source drawing back when hairs tickled his cheek and an amused voice said, "Are you _smelling_ me, Colonel Sheppard?"

"Oh, sorry." He had the grace to be embarrassed. "Um, what's that cologne you're wearing?"

"None. It's my melon cucumber shower gel. You like it?"

"Yeah. It's…nice."

He heard her shift in her seat again. "Once we're in the air, we'll go in the back and I'll check your injuries."

~~O~~

Knowing what was coming next, Amanda was prepared with a comeback.

"If it's all the same to you…"

"Well, it's _not_. I'm your doctor and we're doing this _my_ way." Crossing his arms, John tried to look stubborn, but it lost some of its effectiveness when she couldn't see his eyes. Not that it mattered one way or the other.

"Doesn't mean I have to like it."

"No. You just have to do as you're told."

He sighed is resignation. "Fine. This is gonna be a long flight. Can I get something to eat first?"

"Of course." A few minutes later they were in the air and one of the crew came back to tell them they could get up and move around. After taking off her seat belt, Amanda took a few moments to admire John in his dress blues. That naturally led her to think about Evan and how the color of his jacket made his blue eyes even bluer.

"Hey, Doc."

Amanda couldn't help the small intake of breath at the sound of Evan's voice so close to her. She'd wanted him to notice her as something other than one of Carson's staff for a long time. Just not under these circumstances. Once or twice she'd seen something in his blue eyes that looked like interest but he'd never followed up on it. "Major."

"I was just about to make a pot of coffee. Would you care for a cup?"

Before she could respond to Evan's overture, John stood. "Gonna hit the latrine. Don't get up, Doc. I know the way."

She watched John feel his way down the hall fumbling at the doorknob. Evan took a step forward to help but she stopped him by grabbing his arm, shaking her head. John needed to learn how to do things for himself just in case he never regained his sight. "Coffee sounds great, Major."

"Evan, Doc."

"Amanda."

~~O~~

Rodney watched John fumble his way into the bathroom wanting to go to him, but knowing his help wouldn't be wanted or accepted. And for the first time in his life he cursed his genius and proficiency with computers. If he hadn't broken Carson's lockout code, John wouldn't have nearly been killed. Somehow it was worse because now the evidence of his failure wore bandages over his eyes. A walking talking testimony to one of the biggest fiascos to hit Atlantis since they'd arrived in Pegasus.

Radek handed him a cup of coffee, passed another to Ronon then seated himself in the chair across from his friend.

When the door closed behind John, Rodney turned away, his eyes meeting Ronon's. He too had been keeping a not so discreet eye on their injured friend. "He'll be okay."

"And _how_ can you be so sure of that? How do you _know_ he'll get his sight back?"

The big man shrugged. "Don't. But he'll be okay."

"_Stop_ saying that! We all know this is _my fault!_" Sudden angrier that he'd been in a long time, Rodney surged to his feet and threw his coffee cup at the wall of the lounge. All eyes were on his as he continued his rant. "_I_ sent Watson and Hewston to catalog the lab. _I_ bailed out on Carson. And it was _me_ who…"

"No, it was _my_ fault." Somehow, Amanda's soft voice filled with tears cut through the haze of self-recrimination Rodney was wallowing in. "I-I…he took my shift. If anyone should be dead, it's _me_." She sniffed, her hands searching her suit jacket coming up empty. Evan pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and gave it to her. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose wadding the folded piece of cloth in her hand. Evan touched her on the shoulder and without a second thought she threw herself into his arms.

Ronon stood, anger narrowing his eyes. "It's no one's fault. Beckett _chose_ to do what he did. None of us could've stopped him. Blaming yourself is not what he would have wanted."

It didn't stop there. Within seconds all were on their feet taking responsibility for the death of Carson Beckett. Except for Amanda and Evan, they took their grief out on the ones they should be turning to for comfort.

The shouting came to an abrupt halt when a commanding voice cut through their voices like a knife.

"Shut the hell up! All of you!" John stood just inside the lounge, the uncovered areas of his face red with fury. He raised his right hand clenched into a fist. Slowly he uncurled the fingers as if forcing himself to relax. He took a deep breath and Rodney was sure he'd yell again, but instead, he slumped slightly, his voice going soft. "Please, just…shut up."

Waving his hand in the air, he stepped forward until his shin hit the end of the sofa. He followed it around until he could sit down, unbuttoning his jacket and keeping his left arm close to his body.

One by one, Rodney and the others sat down, Evan's voice speaking softly as he lowered Amanda into a seat. Keeping his arm around her, he sat down beside her and she immediately turned into his comforting embrace.

Not sure why, Rodney pictured himself doing that with Carson's newest recruit, Jennifer Keller. Shaking his head at his lustful thoughts, ones he should be having about Katie, Rodney stood again. He picked up the cup he'd thrown, washed it in the sink then poured himself more coffee. He carefully set the pot on a tray he found in the cabinet above the sink. Carrying the tray, he passed a cup each to Evan and Amanda, then refilled Ronon's and Radek's, handing a cup to John before returning to his seat.

**Stargate Command**

**Cheyenne Mountain Complex**

**Three Days Later**

"We're going to remove the bandages and do a quick exam, Colonel Sheppard."

"Fine. Let's just get this over with so I can get back to work." John knew he was being rude to Carolyn Lam, but he was bored with just sitting around the SGC. His patience had run out days ago. The injuries to his side weren't healing fast enough to suit him and he'd been taking it out on whoever happened to be near. Had been since he'd been injured,

"It takes as long as it takes, Colonel so sell that attitude to someone else."

John didn't even respond to her remark, just waited for the next step. Hopefully, it would be through the Stargate and back to Atlantis.

"I'm taking off the last of the gauze." He felt the thick pads being peeled away from his eyes with relief the he could now blink. He reached up to rub them, stopped by her small hands grabbing his wrists.

"No! Don't rub. Let me clean them then we'll check your eyesight." He heard a small tray on wheels being moved to his side. A package was opened followed by a bottle.

"Yeah, yeah. Can we hurry? I don't wanna miss the next time the Wraith attack." Again, Carolyn didn't respond and he wasn't sure if that was good or bad. She finished cleaning the meds from his eyes and they finally stopped itching. Next he heard her footsteps fading away, stop and return then the click of a flashlight being turned on.

"I'm going to look at your eyes now. Hold still. This may hurt."

John waited, saw a brief lightening of the darkness then nothing. "Anytime now, Doc." Again he waited but still no bright light flashed in his eyes. Though she probably thought she'd made no sound, he easily heard a sigh escape. Not the good kind either. He made an attempt at humor that fell flat. "Doc, you're makin' me nervous here."

"I'm sorry, Colonel."

**TBC**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Thanks once again to ladygris for her Beta. FYI - I've brought in a character that was first introduced in chapter 3 of "Not a Hero."

Gracias,

~Sandy

**Broken Mirror**

**Chapter Three**

Still stunned at the news that his eyesight hadn't returned after two weeks of waiting, John just sat in the chair where Carolyn had left him. Her footsteps faded then stopped and he could hear her talking to someone though they kept their voices low. He perked up when he heard the words "staff psychologist" and a moment later, a hand on his arm startled him.

"Colonel Sheppard? My name is Wallis Langston, the physical therapist." The soft voice of the woman held little inflection. A no nonsense type. "Dr. Lam has asked me to begin training you in the use of a cane just in case. Would you come with me please?"

Though it sounded like a request, he sensed the order underneath. He didn't want to go but felt himself complying. "Where're we going?"

"Into town. We'll work on finding your way around places like parking lots and open spaces that have no physical references." Her voice was slightly accented as though she'd been born in another country, had come to the US as a child and had grown up in a home where their native language was still spoken. "This is just a crash course to help you get through until your sight comes back."

"And if it _doesn't?_"

"Negativity will impact the healing process, Colonel. Just concentrate on what you know and learn about your environment."

"Fine." He laid his hand on her shoulder as he had for Rodney and Evan. "Lead the way."

She removed his hand and got beside him. "You know the way to the lifts. Use that knowledge to get us there. Remember, you have four other senses. _Use them._"

John realized she was right. He'd gotten into the habit of letting others lead him and if his blindness was permanent, he'd have to be able to do this without help. Turning his head listening to the sounds around him, he kept his right hand in front of him as he slowly moved toward the exit. By the time they reached the hall, he'd managed not to run into anything major though Sergeant Siler did bump into his shin with a cart of medical supplies. It didn't hurt much and Siler was quite apologetic, but John blew it off. When you worked at the SGC it was expected that at least two things would happen, not counting aliens and such. Siler would either have or cause an accident, and Daniel Jackson would run into you at some point because his nose was in a book or a stack of papers. Both had happened to John on many occasions.

Turning immediately in the direction of the lifts, he kept his right hand out to the side barely touching the pipes and conduits that ran along the curved walls. The echo of their footsteps stopped when they reached the T-junction where he paused to get his bearings. Listening, he could hear gurgling in the pipes, the hum of electricity, the footsteps of personnel as they went around them.

Tilting his head back, he pictured the way things looked above where the ceiling was higher near the cargo lift which was not far from the personnel lifts about thirty meters to the right. Sniffing, he could smell the faint aroma of the Mess Hall. He wrinkled his nose. What was it with military bases and chipped beef on toast? Shit on a shingle was an apt description of the staple of the American soldier.

And now that he was relying on his other senses, he could feel Wallis beside him, the warmth of her body tickled at the new hairs on his overly sensitive left arm that was still healing. He had to give her credit. She didn't do anything that would give him a subliminal cue to their location, leaving it up to him to show the way.

Reaching back he checked that he had his wallet. After this lesson, he planned on convincing Wallis to take him out to eat. Not on a date or anything. She just happened to be the one who was here and available when he made the decision to break free. The feeling he got from her was that she was compassionate toward her charges but also firm and demanding. Well, he could be that way too. He wouldn't take no for an answer when the time came.

"Colonel?"

"This way." He turned to the right, his hand still on the wall, and made it to the lift without running into anyone. Using his access card, he swiped it through the reader and a few moments later the doors opened. "After you, ma'am." Again he was impressed with Wallis. Without hesitating, she stepped inside and waited for him to join her. He felt for the control panel, found the correct button and sent them hurtling toward the surface.

~~O~~

Landry lounged on the sofa in his office, Carolyn sitting beside him, each with a cup of coffee. Carolyn sipped some of the hot black brew then set the cup aside.

"Well, don't keep me in suspense. Atlantis is waiting for a report."

"The injuries to Colonel Sheppard's eyes are almost completely healed, but he still can't see. Not even shapes or shadows." She handed him John's file and waited while he read her report. It had already been sent via email but he liked paper.

When he finished reading, he flipped the folder shut and tossed it on the corner of his desk. "The blindness is psychosomatic?"

"I believe so. There isn't enough scarring to produce a total loss of vision. He mentioned a brief flicker of light then nothing."

Landry exhaled loudly. "I'll sign the order and let Atlantis know that Sheppard will be staying with us a while." He stood and turned his wrist over to check the time. "I'm meeting your mother for dinner tonight."

Carolyn grimaced. "How long did it take to convince her?"

He shrugged. "Two, three…weeks."

She gave him a rueful grin and took his hand. "Where are you taking her?"

"That jazz club in town she likes so much."

"But you _hate_ jazz."

"True." He squeezed her hand in return. "But I love your mother and _she_ enjoys it. And as long as _she's_ happy, _I'm_ happy."

"And that makes _me_ happy too. Have fun, Dad." Rising up on her toes, she kissed him on the cheek then pointed a finger at him with a mock stern expression. "And don't stay out too late. You know how I worry."

~~O~~

John and Wallis enjoyed a good meal and because he wasn't driving, he treated himself to a couple of beers. By the end of the meal that indulgence came to haunt him. He excused himself praising his foresight in requesting to be seated near the restrooms. What he'd forgotten to ask was which door was which. He extended the folding cane Wallis had given him, using it to find his way. Hearing someone behind him, he reached out to get their attention. "Excuse me. Which is the men's room?"

"The left, buddy."

"Thanks." John pushed through the indicated door, his right hand finding the blow dryer on the wall. He trailed his fingers over the tile until he encountered one of the baby-changing stations snickering at finding one in the men's room. A stall door opened while John was still trying to find the urinals. He backed into the wall when he heard a woman's voice. Guessing that she came up to about his shoulder, she had to be in her sixties or so and her tone told him she was unperturbed at finding a man in the ladies room.

"I think you took a wrong turn somewhere, honey." She moved away from him and the water came on.

"Sorry. Uh, you don't have to worry about me seeing something I shouldn't, ma'am. I'm blind."

A loud snort of amusement echoed slightly in the tile-lined room. "Like I haven't heard _that_ before." He listened to her use the blow dryer then go to the door. "Just remember to put the seat down when you leave, honey."

The smirk in her voice made him smile and he knew that she'd seen the cane. "Yes, ma'am."

**The Next Day**

"A shrink? Except for not being able to see, I'm _fine_, General."

"That's an _order_, Colonel. Mine and the IOA's via Mr. Woolsey."

"Yes, sir." John stood at parade rest doing his best not to twitch. It wasn't the intense scrutiny he knew Landry was giving him because, well, he couldn't see it. The burns on his left side itched terribly and though he was told not to, he really wanted to get back to his room so he could scratch.

"She's already here and on her way down. Your first appointment is in thirty minutes."

"She?"

Landry picked up a file from the desk and flipped it open signaling an end to the conversation. "Dismissed."

Coming to attention as best he could, John extended his cane and made his way to the door. Out in the hall, he ignored the lift and took the stairs down to the next level. "Walter, could you…" He didn't know how he knew that the omnipresent Sergeant wasn't listening. Making his way to the 'gate control console, he touched Walter on the shoulder. "What's going on, Sarge? Sergeant!"

"Sorry, Colonel." Walter's voice had an odd quality to it, as if he'd seen something that had stunned him. "The, uh, new staff psychologist has just arrived."

"What's she look like? Dr. Ruth? Dr. Phil? Dr. Demento? Dr. Seuss?"

After a long pause in which he pictured Walter's mouth opening and closing several times, he finally spoke. "Mere words could _never_ do her justice."

The sound of high heels on the stairs foretold the approach of the shrink. She came to a stop in front of John and Walter. "Hello boys. Is the General in? I need to see him before my first appointment." Her voice held a trace of wry amusement. "Up the stairs?"

"Y-Yes, ma'am."

John waited but she didn't move and he got the feeling that she was giving him the once-over. He pictured her standing with hands on hips, her lips pursed as she dropped her eyes to his feet then made a leisurely trip back to his face wishing like hell that he could see her too. Taking off the aviators, he hooked them on the front of his casual shirt. He guessed her height with the heels to be at least equal to his own though he'd yet to get a mental image of what she looked like. From Walter's reaction, she had to be beyond stunning.

"You must be Colonel Sheppard."

"And _you_ must be the shrink." John stuck out his hand and a moment later it was wrapped in a strong, warm grip, her long nails lightly scratching the back of his hand.

"Dr. Morticia Adams. We'll take a short interlude for laughter."

"That's an unusual name." John was doing his best NOT to laugh though some of it came through, if her tone was any indication.

"I'm an unusual woman."

"So I've heard. Pleasure to meet you, doc."

She patted his unshaven cheek. "We'll see about that, boobala. My office is across from Dr. Jackson's. Our session starts in twenty minutes exactly. Don't make me come after you."

With that, she walked around him and up the stairs without another word. They heard a knock and Landry's voice inviting her in. A moment later the door opened and closed.

"So, Walter. Is she attractive?"

"Very much so!"

"Long dark hair, stilettos, dressed all in black?"

"Yes, sir."

"What color eyes?"

"Um…violet."

That surprised John. He'd never seen a woman with violet eyes before and cursed his inability to see them now. There was another long pause before John said, "It really _sucks_ bein' blind."

"Yes, sir."

~~O~~

One of the soldiers had been kind enough to bring Morticia's boxes from the plane and set them on her desk. She rummaged in a particular one, extracting several objects and carefully unwrapping the framed photos. The first was a family photo. Mom was on the left, three-year old Mordred on her lap. Dad was next to her, one arm around Mystique while she, as the oldest, stood between their parents. With a wistful smile for the loss of her mother and father, Morticia set the photo on the credenza behind her. Next to it was a photo of just the three siblings in their twenties sitting on the sofa laughing together over who knew what. The last frame was covered with pink bows, kittens, baby bottles and prams. Taken just three months ago at the hospital, Mystique was holding her newborn daughter while her proud husband looked on. A knock on the door brought her back to the present. She set the frame next to the others. "Come in."

The door opened and the man she'd met in the control room stepped inside. He was still awkward with the cane telling her he'd only just learned to use it to get around. "Thank you for coming, Colonel. Please, have a seat."

John just stood there, his head turned in her general direction, the aviator glasses back in place as was the twist of stubbornness to his lips. "Look, doc. It was great meeting you, but I'm not here because I _want_ to be so let's get a few things straight…"

She knew what was coming having seen and heard it all in her life as a psychologist. "What you need to get _straight_, Colonel, is you won't be going back to Atlantis without my say-so. And you won't get it anytime soon if you refuse to cooperate. Now _sit._"

"Fine." His hand out in front of him, John located a chair and sat down. He folded the cane and set it aside. "I'm not talking about my mother."

Morticia let a smile come into her voice. "Maybe later. Right now, tell me about how you were recruited into the Stargate program."

The long sigh told her he'd recounted the story on numerous occasions. "I was stationed at McMurdo when General O'Neill asked me to fly him to the base in Antarctica. Later I found out he'd specifically requested me as his pilot when he could have flown himself. Why he took such an interest in me, I have no idea…"

**One Week Later**

Landry looked up from the file Morticia had given him to read, closed the folder and folded his hands on top. "You're certain?"

"Yes, General. His continued blindness is caused by the psychological stress of the things he's seen over his years in the military, specifically those in Pegasus, and has adversely affected the physiological functioning of his vision to the point of distress. Dr. Lam examined him several times since we began our sessions and the corneal scarring in almost completely healed. He _should_ be able to see, but he can't because subconsciously he doesn't _want _to. He expected to be blinded and his subconscious latched onto it as a way to keep him from seeing more of the things that haunt his dreams at night."

"And your recommendation is that he be sent home to recuperate."

"Yes. Though he's been estranged from his family for many years, one of the stressors is that he's never reconnected with his father and brother. Perhaps time with them will ease some of the distress."

"Or not."

"That is a possibility as well. The mind is a tricky thing."

"Okay. I'll sign the order." Landry went to the door and bellowed, "Walter!"

The Sergeant's voice drifted up the stairs. "Colonel Sheppard's on his way, sir."

**Later That Week**

The nondescript sedan with government plates pulled up the winding drive past the stables and came to a stop in front of a white two story ranch house. The driver waited but John didn't get out.

"Sir? We're here."

"I know. How about taking me to a hotel instead?"

"Sorry, Colonel."

"What about a bribe?"

"As much as I'd like to take you up on it, sir, I can't. Orders. Here and nowhere else."

Under his breath, John muttered, "Crap!"

The driver, a young Air Force Lieutenant, got out and went to the trunk. He pulled out a black duffle bag then opened the front passenger door. John reluctantly got out, took the bag and walked to the front door of his family home. The sedan pulled away taking with it any chance he had of escaping. Feeling around, he located the doorbell and pressed it. The chimes echoed inside and moments later, the door opened.

"Good afternoon, sir. How may I help you?"

The man's voice was deep, slightly accented and unfamiliar to John. Briefly he wondered what happened to Dodson who'd been the head of staff when he was kid. Immediately on the heels of that thought he realized that Dodson had to be retired or even dead by now. The man had been white-haired and wrinkled when John was a teen. "I'm here to see my, uh…Patrick Sheppard."

There was a pause and he knew the man was giving him a long intense stare, taking in his jeans, T-shirt and button front shirt left untucked which was a sacrilege in the Sheppard home. That coupled with his unruly hair had to be an offense to the butler. "May I say who is calling?"

"My name is…"

"John Sheppard. He's my son." Startled that his father's voice sounded just the same as it did the last time they'd spoken, John hesitated before speaking. It had that same level of disapproval since the day John announced his intention to attend Stanford instead of Harvard.

"I wasn't aware that you had a second son, sir."

"Actually, I'm the oldest. Kinda the black sheep of the Sheppard family." Neither his dad nor the butler responded to his attempt at humor.

"You've been gone for how many years and just suddenly show up out of the blue like no time has passed? What do you _want_, John?"

"Nice to see you too, Dad." John wanted to shift his feet knowing that his father's piercing gaze was boring a hole in his skull willing him to take off the glasses and look him in the eye. "I need a place to stay for a few weeks while I recuperate and don't have anywhere else to go."

"What's _wrong_ with you?"

"You never notice the little things, do you?" John pulled his white cane from where it was tucked under his arm, unfolded it and removed his sunglasses staring straight ahead where he knew Patrick Sheppard stood, his posture still ramrod straight even at his age. "I'm blind, Dad_._"

**TBC**

**A/N:** I would also like to thank her for the wallpaper and banner she made for this story as well as another she made called "Brothers in Arms." It comes from a song I heard sung by Ryan Kelly of Celtic Thunder. Look it up on YouTube. You won't be sorry.

~SL


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Okay, let's try this_ one more time_. Ladygris did the Beta and I am very thankful for her assistance and friendship. Antipodes gave the correct French to use. It took a couple of tries and hopefully I got it right this time. Part of the errors, I believe, are the fault of the website for taking out random spaces in the italicized sentences. *confused expression*

Thank you,

~Sandy

**Broken Mirror**

**Chapter Four**

Patrick Sheppard stared at his eldest son seeing the places on his head that had been burned and were covered with new hair growth as well as the still healing areas on his face, mostly around the eyes. All told him that his son wasn't playing some elaborate practical joke. "Come in, son. You can stay in your old room." The way John held the cane in front of him and felt his way through the front door further solidified his son's story of being unable to see. "Jefferson, take him upstairs and see him settled then let Beatrice know we have a guest."

"Gee, Dad. I don't come home for a few years and suddenly I'm not _family_, I'm a _guest?_"

"Let's not go into this now." Before John could respond, Patrick turned on his heel and returned to the den, his sanctuary from the world, a place where he could let his emotions show without an audience. Seating himself behind the desk, he sighed and said one word into the light streaming through the glass doors facing the side patio. "Dammit!"

He took his cell phone from the desk pausing just a moment before dialing. "Ed? Patrick Sheppard…fine…no, not for three months…When were you going to call and tell me my son had been injured?" Holding in a sigh, Patrick loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top button of his dress shirt. "You just found out? I thought you worked closely with Homeland Security and answered only to the Vice President…You've never had a problem getting information on him before. Why now? … Never mind. How did he get hurt? … If I thought he'd tell me, I'd _ask_ him. Today was the first time we've spoken in years. He's never been forthcoming about his feelings…What? Oh, yes. Very funny, Ed…Golf next week? … Of course. Hope you're ready to have your ass handed to you…no. I'm sure we'll be fine…no, you're not going to see us on Jerry Springer or Oprah any time soon…I have another call. See you Wednesday at noon in the clubhouse."

Patrick clicked off the call and over to the incoming. "Sheppard…I'm glad you called David. I need you to come home early…your _brother_ is here…no, I don't know how long he's staying…he was injured at work…I didn't ask and Ed doesn't know…we'll talk about it _later_. Just get on the plane and come home." His thumb jabbed the end key and the phone was tossed on the desk again. Of the two, David was the one who'd followed in his footsteps, the one he'd been the most proud of all these years. Now that John was home again, he brought out the memories of the woman Patrick loved and had lost to cancer when his boys were ten and eight. John resembled his mother more than his father having the same hazel eyes and lopsided grin. Every time he looked at John he saw his wife.

And he clearly remembered the argument that had caused their estrangement and felt embarrassment for the things he'd said, for the things they'd both said. His pride hadn't allowed him to apologize and neither had John's. Just one more thing they had in common. On that point they were both at fault for the wasted years. Maybe they could talk while he was here, come to some sort of understanding.

In a fit of pique, Patrick had disowned his eldest child. Then six months later had regretted that action and put him back in his will. By then, John had joined the Air Force and Patrick supposed it was to find a place where he fit in, a place to call home. If what his contacts with the US government told him was true, then his son had found that place.

Pulling his computer to him, he brought it out of power saver mode and got to work. Soon he'd be turning the company over to David to run full time. There was much to do to bring that about by the time he retired.

~~O~~

_Let's not go into this now._ John snorted. That was code for "not in front of the help."

Well, John had gotten out of the habit of having servants wait on him hand and foot all day every day a long time ago. He wanted…_needed_ to be able to do for himself. That was one reason he'd balked at Dr. Adams' suggestion that he spend some time with his family. His father had people in his employ to handle all the grunt work instead of doing it himself and that rankled with John. He'd come up through the ranks having done more than his share of hard labor at the hands of a piqued senior officer.

And his family…

He hadn't seen his sister-in-law Stephanie since shortly after he and Nancy had separated. It was also the last time he'd seen his nephew, Aaron and just after Felicia had been born. They were now eleven and eight respectively. The only photo he had of them was on his dresser in Atlantis but it was several years old. Stephanie had sent it hoping it would stir John to make contact, perhaps put some of the family demons to rest. But that hadn't happened. At least not yet. Maybe while he was here…

_What am I doing here? I don't know these people anymore, not like Atlantis where they accept me for what I am and don't try to change me into someone or something I'm not. Well, not counting the time I turned into a bug, but that hadn't been their fault and Beckett had found a cure. _

Grief and guilt flowed over him anew as he hung his clothes in the closet. Going to the dresser, he shoved his boxers and socks into the top drawer and slammed it shut knocking over several of the items on top in a clatter of metal and plastic. Feeling around, he located some of his high school football and track trophies. Righting them, he rubbed his thumb over his fingers not feeling a film of dust that should be there. Someone had been keeping the room clean as if John had just gone away for the weekend. He wondered whose idea it was. His father's? Dave's? The housekeeper's?

On the desk he found framed photos, picturing in his mind the images on each one. Picking them up one at a time he touched the glass surfaces. He could tell from the feel of the frame which was which.

A family photo from happier times, another of just him and Dave, a few of him in his football uniform, helmet tucked under one arm. The final one was of him and his best buddy from college, Todd Banister. He chuckled to himself. At Stanford, Todd had worn his blond hair long and straight. Now it was short and darker befitting one of the top plastic surgeons in LA County.

He carefully returned the frames to the desk and moved toward the bed. Putting his hand out at waist height, he located the bedside lamp and switched it on. Once again, he saw nothing. Not a glimmer of light. "What the hell am I _doing?_" Switching it off again he found the bed and sat down, elbows propped on his thighs, one hand pushing through his hair.

Deciding that a nap was preferable to being bored out of his skull or going back downstairs to argue with his father, John lay down, hands laced together behind his head and thought about Carson. He barely moved when someone knocked on the door. It creaked open just a crack a few moments later. "May I come in, Mr. John?_"_

The woman had a French accent and thinking she might be the maid made his imagination go crazy with all sorts of male fantasies. "Sure."

"Your father asked me to…"

John got to his feet as she fully entered the room. "_Parlez vous françias, __mademoiselle?_" (Do you speak French, Miss?)

"_Madame_," she corrected telling him she was married.

"_Quel est votre nom?_" (What is your name?)

"_Sophia, Monsieur John_."

John cringed. He hadn't liked being called "mister" by the help when he lived at home and liked it even less now. "Just _John_, Sophia."

"_Monsieur Patrick m'a demandé de vous dire qu'il aura quelques invités pour le dîner ce soir. Il aimerait que vous y assistiez__._" (Mr. Patrick asked me to tell you there will be some guests for dinner tonight. He would like you to attend.)

"_Quelle heure?_" (What time?)

"_A sept heures __sur la terrasse __près de la piscine__. __Il a dit__ de __ne pas __être en retard__._" (At seven on the patio near the pool. He said not to be late.)

With a sigh of resignation, John nodded. It wouldn't do to rock the boat so soon after arriving. "_Dites à mon père…que je serai là__._" (Tell my father…I'll be there.)

Sophia nodded once. "_Certainement__._" (Of course.)

He could hear the amusement in her voice telling him she knew he'd been about to say something else and gave her a grin. "_Sophia?_"

"_Oui?_"

"_Qu'est-ce que__vous faites ici__?_" (What do you do here?)

"_Je suis __la bonne__. __Pourquoi?_" (I am the maid. Why?)

"_Simple curiosité__. Merci_." (Just curious. Thank you.)

Sophia shut the door behind her as John leaned on the dresser in front of the mirror. Though his reflection stared back, he still couldn't see it and suddenly his mood went from wry amusement to infuriated. With one swipe of his arm, he pushed everything from the top of the dresser onto the floor, the sound of glass breaking loud to his overly-sensitive ears. He heard running footsteps in the hall and the door was flung open again.

"_Monsieur John!__ Vous allez bien?_" (Mr. John! Are you alright?)

John could hear the alarm in Sophia's voice making him regret his emotional outburst. "_C'est__ un accident__. __Je vais __le __nettoyer_." (It was an accident. I'll clean it up.)

"_Non. Laissez-moi faire__._" (No. Let me do it.)

Her tone was firm, not to be argued with so he returned to the bed and listened to her work which she did quickly and with minimal fuss. When she was done, she didn't say a word. Just opened the door to go stopping when he spoke to her again, his voice soft and apologetic. "_Merci, Sophia._"

"_De rien__,__Monsieur John._"

The door closed softly behind her and he was left alone again, just as he deserved to be.

**The Sheppard Family Home**

**That Evening**

In deference to his father's wishes, at least for tonight, John made an attempt at conforming. As he didn't have many clothes with him, he wore a pair of khaki chinos and a long sleeved shirt in dark blue that Sophia had been kind enough to iron for him. He finished buttoning the front, tucked it in and buckled the belt. Without visual confirmation that he looked as good as possible given the circumstances, he just had to assume everything was in place. One last pass of his hand through his hair, a deep breath and he left the room. Unfolding the cane, he made his way toward the music and laughter drifting up the stairs. The volume of voices told him that this was another of his father's "small" gatherings. Small meaning at least a hundred people. It was a way for him to keep up the appearance that he cared about the people who worked for him by throwing an elaborate celebration.

When his mother had been alive, he and Dave would creep out of their rooms to the top of the stairs to watch the overdressed men and women talking, dancing and eating while they basked in the light of being privileged enough to be invited to a party at the Sheppard home. From the snatches of conversation they'd overheard, these events were more about being seen with the "right" people than having fun. Dave had always been enthralled while John snuck downstairs to grab them each a snack. His brother would admonish him while stuffing his face with the food John had stolen.

As he reached the top of the stairs, John folded the cane and laid it on the table to the left. His father wouldn't want his friends to know that his eldest son was blind lest they feel pity and that was just one more thing Patrick Sheppard couldn't abide. Being pitied.

He'd just reached the bottom when he heard a familiar voice, this time speaking English. "Oh, Mr. John, you look _very_ handsome."

"_Merci_, Sophia." He gave her a small bow.

"Hold still." He felt her hands adjusting the collar of his shirt then she brushed her fingers over his hair chuckling when it went back to its former position. "I'm sorry, Mr. John. I didn't tell you that this is a formal affair."

"I don't have much with me so this will have to do."

"And where is your cane?"

Her voice was admonishing bringing to mind his mother when he would come home late dirty with a fat lip or a black eye from fighting or wiping out while doing stunts on his bike or skateboard. And just like then he could feel himself wanting to squirm under her intense gaze even though he couldn't see it. "Leaving it upstairs is step one in my campaign not to embarrass my father any more than necessary."

"Shall I take you to the food tables?"

"Not hungry, but thanks for the offer. I'll get something to drink then go outside for a walk provided they haven't rearranged the garden in the last few years." Her hand touched his arm.

"Be careful, Mr. John."

He laid his hand over top of hers and gave it a squeeze. "I will, Sophia. Thanks."

~~O~~

Sipping from a glass of ginger ale, Kiana edged toward the sliding doors on the far side of the enormous room where many of the other guests were mingling. Not a part of the business world, she didn't understand much of what was being said. Looking for a haven amidst the controlled chaos, she set the glass aside, quickly slid the doors apart, darted into the darkened room and softly closed them again. Inside, she found just what she'd expected to find: sanctuary.

The room was easily three times the size of the apartment she'd shared with her best friend in college and was filled floor to ceiling with shelves of books. A fireplace was set into the wall to the right though in this part of California such a thing was seldom needed. A furniture grouping consisting of a comfortable looking sofa and matching armchairs took up the middle of the room. To the right of the patio doors were a few more chairs, set apart so that the room's occupants could be together yet not.

A heavy wooden desk, probably King Louis something or other squatted in its place of honor to the left. She stepped farther into the room, the click of her high heels muffled by the Persian area rugs. Going to the patio doors, she was about to step outside when a voice startled her. Slapping her hand over her mouth to stop a scream, she swung around to see a casually dressed man sitting in one of the armchairs.

"Sneaking out so soon? Patrick won't like that."

"Oh, good _Lord!_ You scared me!"

The light on the table next to him flicked on casting odd shadows over his face. She could tell he was young, maybe forty, lean and not exactly dressed for the occasion.

"Sorry." His tone said he wasn't nearly as apologetic as he should be. "I won't bite. Promise."

When Kiana got closer she could see his hair but not his eyes. "Did you just come in?"

The man shrugged. "A while ago."

"It must be _really_ windy out there."

"Excuse me?"

"Your hair." She pointed to her own head, each hair kept in place by the mousse she'd used. "Looks like you were caught in a wind storm."

He chuckled and she liked the sound of it, deep and reverberating, as one dark eyebrow lifted. "It wasn't the wind. Mother tried to tame _it_ and _me_for many years, but it never worked…on either of us."

Moving a step closer, Kiana looked up at him when he stood showing him to be at least a head taller than her. "I see." She extended her hand. "Kiana Saito."

Cocking his head to the side, he reached out, overshot then found her hand, giving it several pumps before letting go. "John Sheppard."

"Sheppard? As in…"

John nodded, both hands going into his pockets. "…as in eldest son of the CEO of Sheppard Industries. But don't hold it against me. You can't choose who your relatives are."

Grinning, she laced her fingers together in front of her. "I should have known. You have his smile."

"No. I have _Mother's_ smile. It's the pigheadedness and obstinacy I get from _Dad_."

She peered closer, a cheeky grin in place. "Touché." Going to his side, she looped her arm through his. "So, tell me, Mr. Sheppard…"

"Colonel."

"Sorry?"

Waving his free arm in a gesture meant to be grandiose and vague at the same time, he told her, "I defend this great nation." She stared at him blankly then he continued. "US Air Force. Military. Guys and gals in camouflage running around shooting guns."

She huffed at him and started walking toward the glass doors. "I knew that. You just don't look military to me." Looking into his face, she wasn't surprised to see a smirk.

"Yeah, well…when we get to know each other better, maybe I'll take you upstairs and show you my medals."

Kiana couldn't help but laugh out loud at that. "Oh, now _that's_ original!"

An innocent look joined the smirk. "What? I meant actual medals!"

"S-u-ure you did!"

He opened the door then followed her out. "What'll it be, Kiana? A walk past the stables or through the grove of trees on the east side."

"Trees. The smell of the stables will kill my appetite and I want to enjoy the sit-down part of the evening."

"Got it. Um, won't your date wonder where you are?"

"No. She's in her element at these things. Probably doesn't even know I'm gone."

"She?"

Again Kiana chuckled. "I'm here with a friend. Her husband is home sick and she didn't want to come alone. Thinks it makes her look pathetic." She nodded and smiled at several of the guests leaning on the stone railings of the patio while John seemed to look right through them. He nearly ran into a man standing alone quietly contemplating the scenery excusing himself without meeting the other man's eyes. A couple of women who'd had more plastic surgery than Michael Jackson smiled boldly, giving him come-on looks that most men wouldn't be able to ignore. Apparently John wasn't an ordinary man.

They kept walking until John ran into a large stone urn with his shin. "Ow!"

At that moment, all the pieces fell into place and Kiana realized John was blind. Rather than mentioning it, she tucked her hand into the bend of his left elbow again. He stiffened slightly at her touch then relaxed as she subtly guided him around the remaining obstacles on the patio then through the garden toward their destination.

~~O~~

Standing just outside the doors that opened onto the patio where the band was playing, Patrick watched his son walk into the darkness with one of the female guests. John had many issues to work through and she could be the one to help him do it. Then perhaps they could be a real father and son again the way they'd been before Abigail had passed away.

Someone called his name and he turned with a welcoming smile on his face totally at odds with how he was really feeling.

Throughout the night, Patrick kept a discreet eye on his son and the woman noticing how they got on quite well together. At dinner, they sat together and Patrick watched her assist John without making it obvious that she was doing so. He made a mental note to speak to his senior vice president of new acquisitions about her friend. With her experience, she'd be perfect for a special project he had in mind.

**TBC**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Ladygris did the Beta. Thanks a bunch. Was hoping to hear from Shadows-of-Realm but he's off doing something he won't tell us about.

Thanks,

~Sandy

**Broken Mirror**

**Chapter Five**

Dave came through the front door to a dark and very quiet home. It was two in the morning, almost twelve hours since his father had told him to come home. He'd tried, but the plane had mechanical trouble preventing him from making it home in time for the party. But that wasn't the reason he'd obeyed Patrick's order. His brother was home after years of not seeing him since that fateful night where John announced that he and his wife were getting a divorce.

Nancy had been the one thing that had kept John coming home in the years since they'd married. Without her to influence his brother, he'd stayed away and they'd only received cards at infrequent intervals. Birthday cards for the kids mostly. At least he remembered their names and ages.

He climbed the stairs stopping outside the room he shared with his wife, his computer case in one hand, when he heard the toilet flush in the bathroom John's old room shared with a bedroom that had been turned into an office. Dropping his eyes to the floor, he saw no light on smiling nostalgically. His older brother had never been afraid of the dark. Not like Dave himself who had slept with a nightlight until he was twelve. He had to give his brother one thing. He'd never told anyone about his brother's fears. And Dave had returned the favor by not mentioning that the only thing John was afraid of was clowns. Dave had always thought it silly, but he never told anyone.

Setting his bag by the bedroom door, he listened at John's door for a moment stepping back when it opened unexpectedly bringing the brothers face to face. But something wasn't right. John didn't seem to see him which was odd. John cocked his head to the side as if listening to something only he could hear.

"Is someone there?"

"John? It's Dave."

John's hand dropped to his side and his face twisted into an ironic smirk. "'Bout time you got home. Dad was _pissed_ you didn't make it in time for the party."

"Couldn't be helped. It's…It's good to see you." Dave watched John's face looking for…he didn't know what. What he saw was something he didn't expect to see. His brother seldom failed to keep eye contact, but now he was looking over Dave's shoulder.

A disbelieving snort came out. "I was just gonna go to the kitchen for a snack."

"I'll go with you."

John trailed his right along the wall to the stairs. At the bottom, he turned toward the kitchen at the back of the house, Dave behind him watching every move.

In the kitchen, John didn't bother to turn on the light and Dave was content to observe the strangeness. Fumbling at the cabinets, John took down two glasses and two small plates. He then went to the pantry and returned with a package of cookies. His next stop was the refrigerator. The glare from the light made the injuries on his face stand out in stark relief though John didn't blink in the brightness.

John filled both glasses, opened the cookies placing two on each plate before handing a plate and a glass to Dave. But his brother had moved to the other side of the kitchen island. Leaning on the edge of the counter, Dave put all the pieces together and didn't like the picture it presented. "I'm over here."

Turning in his direction, John took two steps closer, setting the plate and glass on the counter. Dave picked up the glass and just held it. "Why didn't you tell me you were blind?"

"Now what would've been the fun in that? This way, you got to watch your big brother make a fool of himself in the dark."

"That's not funny, John."

His brother made no response except to shrug as he took a sip of his drink making a face. "Orange juice. Thought it was milk." Shrugging, John picked up a cookie and took a huge bite.

Instead of pacing as he wanted to, Dave stayed in place so John wouldn't be disoriented. He sipped from his glass and swallowed before continuing. "How did it happen? Dad didn't say."

"That's because I haven't told him."

"Why not?"

Again the shrug. "He didn't ask. Sent the housekeeper to invite me to the party instead of doing it himself. Probably afraid we'd actually have to talk to each other if we're alone together for more than a few seconds."

"He's a busy man, John. Some things have to be delegated."

"And apparently one of those things is _me_. Don't know why I thought it would be different just because…" John finished his juice, set the glass on the counter and picked up the remaining cookie. "See you at breakfast. I assume it's still served in the informal dining room." Not waiting for an answer, John left, almost running into the door jamb on the way out. Dave stayed to finish his juice and think.

**Several Days Later**

Balancing a tray in one hand, Sophia tapped lightly on the door and waited to be invited in. It had been over a week since the party and she'd only seen John a few times. Mostly he just sat in a chair in the great room brooding. Others, he sat in the garden with a pair of headphones on listening to music and moped. But today, he hadn't come out of his room. This could _not_ be a good thing. The day they met, she had sensed a great sadness in him that only time could heal, wishing there was something she could do to help speed up the process.

She had hoped that Mr. John and Mr. Patrick would be able to resolve some of the bitterness between them, but it hadn't happened. At least not yet. Mr. Patrick had gone out of town two days after the party and hadn't been back since. And as far as she knew, he hadn't called to speak to either of his sons, Miss Stephanie _or_ the children.

"Mr. John?" Again she waited for a response, exhaling in relief when his voice reached her.

"_Come in_."

Easing the door open, she slipped inside and closed it again. "I've brought you something to eat." When they were alone, they spoke in her native language and she appreciated the chance to speak it somewhere other than at home with her husband and children.

"Not hungry."

Every day since he'd been home, John had made his bed, dressed and come downstairs. Today the bed was unmade. He lay on his side facing away from the door still wearing his pajamas. Now he wasn't eating. The signs of depression were easy to spot as she had gone through them herself when her mother had died. Setting the tray on the desk, she went to his side touching him gently on the arm. "If there's anything I can do…" He stiffened under her touch though she didn't pull away.

"Please, Sophia…just go."

"Of course." She gave his arm one last squeeze before leaving him alone. At the door she turned, gave him one last sad look then was gone.

~~O~~

When the door closed behind the housekeeper, John rolled over onto his back to stare up at the ceiling. Or he tried to. Every morning he awoke hoping he'd at least be able to see shapes, dark and light, something so that he could distinguish one person from another without needing to hear voices. But each day that he went without seeing even a glimmer of light chipped away at the hope he'd been holding onto since the day he awoke in the Infirmary after Carson had been killed.

The smell of the food turned his stomach in a way that he'd never experienced before though he couldn't be bothered to work out why. Grabbing the top edge of the covers, he pulled them up to his neck as he rolled onto his other side tucking his right hand under the pillow and closing his eyes.

Sophia came to the door a couple of hours later, but he pretended to be asleep. She took the untouched tray and departed without a word.

~~O~~

The clock had just struck one in the morning when Patrick let himself in the front door. Like David, he'd come home after everyone else had gone to bed though for him it was because he'd worked late having gone straight to the office after returning from his business trip. He immediately headed for the library where he left his computer bag and overcoat. His luggage would be brought in by the driver once the household had awakened. No need to disturb them now.

He switched out the light, covering a yawn as he headed for the stairs. As he approached, a small sound led him into the drawing room. Curled on the end of one of the sofas was Sophia which was more than a little odd as she didn't live on the premises. He turned to go so he wouldn't wake her, stopping when she called his name.

"Mr. Patrick?" She must have been waiting for him and had fallen asleep. "I must speak to you. It's quite urgent."

The older man glanced at the clock and sighed. "Fine. But keep it short. I have a meeting at nine and need sleep."

"Of course." She scooted around until she was sitting with her feet on the floor. "It's about Mr. John…"

~~O~~

Clara heard the door to the private elevator open and close telling her that her boss had arrived. The clock said it was eight forty-five on the nose. Patrick was almost never late. Punctuality was one of the things he prided himself on. In her opinion, his pride sometimes got in the way of more important things, but it wasn't her place to say so.

The coffeemaker dripped one last drop of the dark brew as she took the cup and carafe from the cabinet. Filling both, she lightly tapped on the door receiving permission to enter. "Your coffee, Mr. Sheppard. Where shall I make your lunch reservation today?"

He barely looked up from his computer. "Café dans le Désert. Make it for two."

"Yes, sir."

"And get my son in here."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Sheppard. David isn't here yet."

Patrick glared at her as if it were her fault. "When he arrives, tell him I want to see him immediately after the meeting."

"Yes, sir." Her boss always barked orders at her as if she were a dog, but the pay and the benefits were good so she put up with it and him though she would only have to endure for another month. She had already purchased a retirement condo in Treasure Island, Florida overlooking the Gulf of Mexico. She couldn't wait to be as far from Patrick Sheppard as she could get and still be in the US. Closing the door softly instead of slamming it like she wanted to, Clara went to her computer and sent David a text letting him know that his father was on the warpath about something…again.

~~O~~

Patrick came to his feet as the hostess lead his guest to the table, extending his hand. "Thank you for coming, Doctor." His saw his guest seated before a response was forthcoming.

"Why am I here, Mr. Sheppard?"

"Right to business, I see. Let's order then we can talk without interruption." Without consulting the menu, Patrick gave the server his order. When he'd been given a refill of coffee and a cup had been brought for his guest, he sat back in an attempt to appear relaxed and friendly though his eyes told a different story. "I would like to engage your services."

"And why would the CEO of a Fortune 500 company want to engage the services of a psychologist? I'd've thought you had one on call twenty-four-seven."

"This is a special project that no one else can know about. I'm prepared to pay you a generous wage for this project." He watched his guest twist the water glass back and forth before meeting his eyes once again. No flinching though the skin around her eyes had tightened. He was impressed. "I want you to help my son. He's become depressed and I'm afraid he may do something…drastic."

A soft chuckle mixed with the tinkle of real china as the server place their meals in front of them and quickly departed. "From his reputation, David doesn't seem the type to…"

"It's not David. I'm talking about John." Patrick pushed the food around on his plate before taking another bite waiting for an answer.

"Why me?"

"I saw how well you handled him at dinner the other night, Dr. Saito."

Her smile, as small as it was, disappeared and her eyes darkened with anger that she didn't let enter her voice. "Your time and resources would be better spent trying to get to know John yourself rather than paying someone to do it for you. And for the record I don't _handle_ people, Mr. Sheppard. I help them to help themselves. The other night was about two people finding what could be the beginnings of a _friendship_. I do this for you and he finds out, it's likely that friendship will be shot down before it even gets off the ground. And that would be a terrible thing."

Setting his empty plate aside, Patrick leaned forward, his eyes intent. "Then there's only one solution."

"And that is…?"

"Make sure he _doesn't_ find out." At her hard stare, he continued. "I assure you, I only have my son's best interests at heart. He needs someone to watch out for him though he doesn't realize it."

"Why don't you do that yourself? It would mean so much more if were _you_."

"Dr. Saito, I know you'll think this is cold-hearted and callous, but he came home at a very inopportune time. The business needs my full attention at the moment."

He watched her think it over then pick up her purse and stand. "I'll do it, but for _John_, not _you_. And you can keep your money. You know, I can't help but think that one day you'll wish you'd been there when he needed you the most."

With that parting shot, she left him sitting alone with the remains of his meal. Reaching into his inside breast pocket, he took out a small bottle, removed one pill and swallowed it with water.

~~O~~

Slumped in a chair in the corner of his room, John didn't move when someone knocked on his door. The only member of the household aside from his niece and nephew to care enough to check up on him was Sophia. The kids were in school so… "Come in, Sophia." The door opened then closed followed by her footsteps. "Put the tray on the desk, please."

"No tray this time. You have a phone call, Mr. John." She placed a cellphone sized handset in his right hand.

"Who is it?"

"She did not say."

"She?" Sitting up, John's interest was sparked for the first time in days. "Thanks." The door closed behind her as he brought the phone to his ear. "Sheppard."

"_You're a difficult man to reach. Do you have any idea what I had to promise Sarah to get her to give me your home number?_"

A smile came to John's face as he recognized the voice of the woman he met at the party. "Let's call that need-to-know. How are you, Kiana?"

A long-suffering sigh came through the phone. "_Bored. I was supposed to go to Cabo San Lucas this week, but the hotel was damaged in a storm and everyone else is booked up. Wanna help a girl out?_"

"What did you have in mind?"

"_Well, what do you enjoy doing aside from flying?_"

"Ferris wheels, watching college football, one-on-one basketball, listening to Johnny Cash, playing guitar, surfing."

"_Hmm. An eclectic list. How about I surprise you?_"

Inside, John felt genuine excitement for the first time in weeks. "Deal. Pick me up in an hour?"

"_Great! See you then_."

**TBC**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Once again ladygris did the Beta. Thanks so much, my friend.

~Sandy

**Broken Mirror**

**Chapter Six**

John hung up the phone, pushed out of his chair and went to the door. Flinging it open, he shouted, "Sophia! Where are…"

"Here, Mr. John."

She'd been standing right outside the door, and even though he couldn't see her, he angled his head down bringing up the picture of her he'd built in his mind. The part of his brain where male fantasies lived imagined her with killer looks, white blond hair, blue eyes, legs that went up to her neck and wearing a super short maid's uniform with a frilly crinoline that peeked out the bottom.

But his reasoning center gave her very different looks. It pictured her as dark-haired with the same blue eyes, maybe a little on the zaftig side, with a smile that could light up a room and made dimples in her cheeks.

He knew which he preferred, but because she was married, he stuck to the second one.

"I'm going out for a while. Would you tell Beatrice I won't be here for lunch _or_ dinner?"

"Of course, Mr. John." She paused and he knew she was working out in her head his relationship with Kiana. "What time should we expect you home? Before midnight or in the morning?"

He huffed down at her adding a smile to take away the rudeness. "_No_, I won't be staying out overnight. She's just a friend."

"Ah. I assume you'd like to make a good impression. Would you like me to iron a shirt and pants?"

"Don't bother. I have a feeling this is going to be a jeans and T-shirt kind of date."

Now she laughed, a few musical notes that made him grin in return. "But you just said…"

"Never _mind_."

Sophia took his hand and squeezed it. "Should I show her up when she arrives?"

"No. I'll wait for her downstairs." John rubbed a hand over his unshaven cheeks. "Guess I better shave." He sniffed himself, making a face. "And shower." Handing her the phone, he stepped back into the room. "Thanks, Sophia."

"You're welcome, Mr. John."

When she was gone, John stripped out of the pajamas he hadn't taken off for-he counted in his head-three days. At least Sophia was polite enough not to mention that he smelled like a dirty wet dog.

The last few days his father and brother had not come to see him, hadn't bothered to ask _why_ he wasn't leaving his room. Stephanie had knocked a couple of times, but he'd let her think he was asleep though he had let the kids in. Aaron had tried to entice him with the promise of letting him win at Mega-Sphere and Duty Bound while Felicia wanted him to take her for a horseback ride to the place on the property that he and Dave used to play together when they were kids. He'd turned them both down as gently as possible and could hear the disappointment in their voices when they wished him good night.

He was especially upset with himself over denying Felicia's requests because she'd been such a sweet kid since he'd arrived. Each night after dinner she would take his hand, helping to reacquaint him with the layout of the house and taking him for walks in the garden the first couple of days. She would tell him in great detail about the things around them, the furniture, carpet, paintings on the walls, every flower, bush and tree within her visual range.

The third day they'd gone to the stables so she could introduce him to the horses. The three horses he'd met were bays called Cap, Mayj, and LC-which he'd misheard as "Elsie" causing his niece to laugh when he told her it was silly to give a horse a cow's name. There were other horses, but they were being trained for a show in San Diego the following month and weren't to be disturbed.

Aaron and Felicia did try to keep him entertained and he appreciated it, but he missed Ronon, Teyla, Elizabeth and Lorne. He even missed Rodney. And that naturally lead him to Carson and the grief with which he still hadn't dealt. Hell, he missed being in Atlantis and was still pissed that Landry, Dr. Adams and the IOA ordered him to be sent to his father's house to recover when he could have done it just as well at home. Better, as he'd have been among friends instead of his estranged family. Pushing thoughts of Atlantis aside, he turned on the shower and dived under while it was still cold.

Following his shower, he went to the sink, and after some fumbling, located his razor and shaving cream. Some of the areas on the left of his face were still a little sore, but at least they'd stopped peeling. He shaved as best he could and hoped it would be good enough not to scare Kiana away.

John stopped drying his face at that last thought. Why should he be worried about scaring her off? They were just friends. Well, so far. If he stayed here long enough, who knew what could happen?

But he couldn't think about that now. Even if it was only for today, he vowed to go out and have a good time. With that thought in mind, he returned to his room, took the towel from around his waist and felt his way to the closet for his clothes.

When Kiana arrived a few minutes later, he was on the front stoop with cane in hand ready to go. He climbed into the front passenger seat, buckled his seatbelt and slammed the door, waving to Sophia as they drove out of sight.

~~O~~

The king sized bed was covered with men's clothing. On the bathroom door hung three of Dave's best suits, the ones he took with him on business trips, all in separate garment bags. Stephanie had just gotten out her husband's luggage when she heard pounding out in the hall. Checking the time, she smiled. The kids were home early from school and were once again trying to get her brother-in-law out of his room.

Usually the pounding would be followed by John's muffled voice telling them he didn't feel well and sending them away frustrated once again. But tonight the noise continued. Tossing Dave's shaving supplies on the bed she went out into the hall.

"What's going on?"

Aaron jumped on her presence. "Mom! Uncle John's not answerin' the door!"

Clutching at the tail of Stephanie's shirt, Felicia added her little girl voice to her brother's. "What if he's sick or _hurt_ or something?"

With a sharp exhale, she decided that John would come out of his room tonight if she had to call 911 to bring the Jaws of Life. She knocked on the door, her head turned as she listened for movement inside. "John? Are you okay?" There was no answer so she tried the door finding it unlocked. "If you won't come out then we're coming in!" Hoping he wasn't in there passed out on the floor, lying on the bed naked or worse, had done something that would scar the kids for life, she pushed the door open. The bed was unmade and his pajamas were on the floor, but he wasn't there. Scooping the pajamas up, she tossed them in the basket in the corner as she went into the bathroom which was also empty. Going out to the hall, she shouted, "Sophia!" The housekeeper came out of Patrick's room at the end of the hall dragging the vacuum cleaner. "Have you seen John today?"

"Yes, Miss Stephanie. He's gone out with a friend and will be home sometime after dinner."

Stephanie was just a little shocked at that information. "Oh. Uh, it's good he's getting out of the house finally. Well, kids, go do your homework then you can play video games until dinner's ready."

The disappointment on the faces of her children changed to excitement as they went into their rooms and slammed the doors. She chuckled as she went back to her own room to finish packing Dave's suitcases.

~~O~~

With a heartfelt sigh, John zipped up the front of the wetsuit he'd just purchased with Kiana's encouragement, adjusted the sleeves and legs then gathered up his clothes.

"You okay in there?"

"I'm fine. _How_ did I let you talk me into this?"

"You love to surf. I love to surf. It's a match made in Maui."

"Very funny." He opened the door and stepped out turning in a circle. "So? How do I look?" The smile on her face came out in her voice.

"Ready to hit the waves." She took his clothes and shoved them into a bag then tucked her hand around his arm leading him out the front door that faced onto the beach. When they hit the boardwalk, he stopped. "What's wrong?"

"You _do_ remember I'm blind, right?"

"Yeah. So?"

"I know it's just a little thing, hardly worth mentioning, but…"

"I'm confused. Why should visual impairment stop you from doing something you enjoy?"

"Just off the top of my head, can't see the shore, the rocks, the beach bunnies playing volleyball-which is one of the reasons I go to the beach in the first place. That enough for ya?"

Kiana took his right hand and placed it on the cooler handle. He picked it up as she took hold of his left urging him to follow. In his mind, they looked like a couple headed for a day of fun at the beach then she chuckled and that vision seemed even more real. He hadn't been this relaxed with anyone since he'd arrived. "Come on, killjoy. I wanna hit the waves before the best ones are taken."

John finally stopped dragging his feet, letting one side of his mouth turn up in a grin. "You got it, but only if you promise to give me mouth to mouth when I drown."

"Do you _always_ look at the glass as half empty?"

He shook his head ruefully. "McKay must be rubbing off on me. Or maybe it's just…" John stopped short of telling her the reason for his cynical view of life because that would mean telling her about Carson, the way he died and how that had led to his blindness.

"Just what?" Kiana's smile fading and her hand squeezed his a little tighter. "You can talk to me. I'm a good listener."

"I…some other time maybe. Let's just get going."

~~O~~

When John came out of the changing room, she took a moment to admire how he looked in the skin hugging neoprene. It conformed to the contours of his lean body outlining the bulges of his muscles. His legs were a little hairier than she normally cared for, but perfect for him. And his hands…she could easily see him handling weapons as easily as most people handled a cell phone or a computer. And from the little he'd said about himself at the party, she could tell he like kids and was good with them.

What he hadn't said was how guilty he felt for not coming home sooner and under different circumstances though she'd never say so. It was up to _him_ to tell her these things. All she had to do was wait until he was ready. And right now, she was glad she'd refused payment from his father. At least they could become friends without her profession getting in the way.

What she hadn't told Patrick was that she'd already decided to contact his son and see if he was interested enough to go on a date. Judging by how quickly he'd agreed, he was either very interested or very bored. Either way, they were here at the beach and about to go surfing. She'd gotten him this far and felt secure in her abilities to get him to go the distance.

They reached the end of the boardwalk where one only needed to step into the sand and walk straight ahead to touch the Pacific Ocean. "So where would you like to set up camp?"

"Near the life guard shack just in case."

Kiana chuckled. "You do know that Yasmine Bleeth isn't _really_a life guard, right?"

"I'm aware of that. With my luck I'll end up with some dude who looks like that Jason guy."

Rolling her eyes though he couldn't see it, Kiana tugged urging him forward. She found a spot near the guard shack as he'd requested and not too far from the bathrooms. Leaving him with their stuff for a few minutes, she went to the rental stand and rented an umbrella and two surfboards. One of the staff helped her carry them back to John who was sitting on a towel wearing his sunglasses, his head turning side to side to take in all the sounds around him. For the first time since they'd met, he actually looked relaxed, as if a burden that had been weighing on his mind were beginning to lift.

"You ready?"

John stood, took one of the surfboards and held it upright, the tail stuck in the sand. "Yeah. How we gonna do this? Can't put a bell on the waves."

"Gidget."

~~O~~

Kiana would only give John that one-word answer. "Gidget." He knew who Gidget was, had even seen part of one of the movies or an episode of the series on cable, but that still didn't shed any light on how this was going to work. That is until she took his hand again and led him to the water.

A few minutes later, they'd caught a wave and were headed back to shore, her standing in front with him holding onto her waist. He swiveled back and forth as she gave him instructions. While it wasn't the hardest routine he'd ever completed on a board, it was certainly the most interesting, in part because once his hands settled on her waist, he couldn't think about anything but skimming his hands over the rest of her to get an idea of her full shape. And the situation got a little worse when Kiana reached back to pull him against her. "This is it, Moondoggie! Left cutback!"

"Ready, Gidget!" Already standing with one foot forward, John cut left then right over and over, a thrill rushing through him like he'd never felt before, not even from flying. It was the kind of thrill one got from reaching beyond what you thought were your limits and achieving success. They both let out a whoop of joy as the wave picked them up and carried them forward at what felt like an incredible speed.

John's elation came to an abrupt end when the board tilted tossing the two of them gracelessly into the water. He managed to get his lungs full of air before being submerged. Relaxing and letting his body float to the surface, John sucked in air as he swept his arms side to side, his right hand finding and latching onto the board. It hadn't gotten away from him due to the leash attached to his ankle. Feeling along the side, he found Kiana's leash but she wasn't on the end of it. Again sweeping his arms around and listening for any small sound, he searched for her.

"Kiana!" Though he called her name over and over, he heard nothing but the sound of the waves, birds and the other swimmers.

**TBC**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** Once again ladygris did the Beta and it's a better chapter because of it. Thanks so much, friend.

~Sandy

**Broken Mirror**

**Chapter Seven**

Kiana finally got herself right-side up with her head above water. Turning in a circle, she found John still some ways from the beach calling her name. A strong swimmer, she struck out in his direction. "John! I'm here!" His left arm held onto the board while his right reached out for her, taking her hand when she got close enough and pulling her to him so she could hang onto the board.

"You okay?"

"Yes. The wave carried me toward shore a ways. You?"

John didn't answer her question. "I didn't know if…" Taking a deep breath, he held it for a moment and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the slight tinge of panic was gone. "I _knew_ this was a bad idea, but I let you talk me into it anyway. What if you'd been hurt? I can't _see_. I wouldn't have been able to save you." He didn't raise his voice, but the calmness he now displayed made Kiana wish he had shouted, and that made her angry.

"As a soldier, you probably have the need to play the hero…"

"Is that your professional opinion, _doctor?_"

His stab at her work didn't bother her. She already knew the disdain he had for psychologists. "It's not _your_ job to save me. LA County pays the lifeguards to do that, so just put that attitude away or this is our first and _last_ date." Apparently that had been the right thing to say because now he was giving her that half-grin she liked so much.

"We're on a date?"

Rolling her eyes, she couldn't help but smile too. "What did you _think_ this was, John? Just another day at the beach?"

"Well, yeah. But we can call it a date if you want."

"What about what _you_ want?"

His eyes turned in her direction, moving as if he could see her. Reaching out with one hand, his calloused fingertips brushed the wet hairs of her bangs off her forehead then down over her temple to her cheek. His thumb lightly rubbed over to the side of her nose then down to outline her mouth a moment before he pressed his lips to hers. She closed her eyes, the sensation of their kiss making her weak. John pulled back without trying to take the kiss beyond a soft and sweet meeting of mouths. "Ready to surf, Gidget?"

"Bring it on, Moondoggie."

~~O~~

The restaurant was filled with talk, laughter and music coming from a live band. They apparently fancied themselves as a Beach Boys/Jan and Dean cover band because that's all they played. John sipped his beer huffing when they played yet another song about the beach. Pushing his chair back, he stood and unfolded his cane. "Be right back."

"Okay. But don't come crawling to me when you start a bar fight with the lead singer."

Her voice held a warning which he chose to ignore for the moment. "I'm _not_ gonna start a fight." As he made his way to the stage, he felt Kiana watching him. She could have offered to help him find his way, but if his condition was permanent, he would have to do this himself, and it made him like her even more that she was so artful in the ways she did help him that most people didn't know he was blind. Like taking his arm or hand and gently guiding him around obstacles or describing what she was seeing so he could easily picture it in his mind. He grinned to himself when he thought about after the surfing how he'd asked her to describe the women playing in a co-ed volleyball game. Instead of hair color, type of bathing suit or even their skills for the game she'd given him a detailed and itemized list of each woman's plastic surgeries. Eye and butt lifts, breast enhancements-her words, not his, tummy tucks, lipo, collagen injections. You name it, they'd had it done.

John reached the stage and stood off to one side waiting for the song to end. If their pattern held, they'd be taking a break immediately after. "Excuse me?"

"Yeah?"

"Got a minute?"

"Sure pal. Whatcha need?"

~~O~~

"The tests confirm my original diagnosis." Dr. Henry Sanders, a stocky African-American in his early sixties, tossed a folder on his desk waiting for his patient to respond.

"Do them _again_ or give me the name of someone who will."

"Patrick, we've been over this. Having the save tests done over and over will not change the facts. Your family history is working against you as are the decades of too much rich food and not enough exercise." Henry leaned forward, his hands resting on the desk. "You need to _slow down_. Take it easy. Avoid stress as much as possible. Your condition didn't appear overnight and it's not going to go away with a handful of pills."

Patrick looked at his doctor and friend without expression. "It isn't that easy, Henry. I can't just up and quit. As you said, it won't happen overnight. When the CEO of a company like mine retires, there's more to consider than who will be his successor. Leaving at the wrong time and without the proper foundation could bring the company to its knees. If that happens, then thousands of people will be out of work, including my son."

Henry nodded as if agreeing with Patrick. "That reminds me. The coconut telegraph is saying your oldest has returned to the fold. How is that working out?"

"Not well. John and I have never gotten along because we have absolutely nothing in common."

"He's your _son_. If nothing else, that fact should give you some point of reference to start with." Henry let that thought sink in a moment. "Not to mention David, Stephanie, the kids."

"Anything else, Dr. Freud?"

"Yeah. You both love Abigail and were devastated when she died so soon after her diagnosis." Henry could see the guilt in his life-long friend's eyes. "I know you were too filled with your own grief at the time to see it, but your boys needed you then and you pushed them away. David didn't take it personally, never did. But _John_ did and that drove you even farther apart when it should've brought you closer. You need to work things out with him before it's too late."

Patrick got to his feet and the two men shook hands. "Thanks, Henry." At the door, he paused, seemed about to say something more then apparently thought better of it and just left.

~~O~~

John came back to the table where he and Kiana talked quietly about nothing of great significance until a young lady came by with a camera.

"Hi. I'm Monica, the photographer for Barney's Bar and Grill. Would you like a photo?"

Kiana nodded. "John?"

"Sure."

He seemed reluctant at first then smiled wrapping an arm around her shoulders to pull her close. Kiana was surprised enough that she let her hand rest on his chest. He'd told her about the burns but she hadn't seen them and could feel their presence under the T-shirt. She blinked in the bright light of the flash from the digital camera.

Monica took several shots repositioning them each time. "You make a cute couple. How long you been together?"

Under her hand, Kiana felt the vibration of John quiet laugh. "First date."

"Then I'm glad I could memorialize it for you." She pulled out a card and a pad, placing both on the table in front of John. "Give me your email address and I'll send you copies."

Taking the pen and paper, Kiana gave her home email address. "Thanks."

"Do you mind if we display these photos on our wall of fame?"

"Go ahead." John grinned at the girl and Kiana watched her smile in return. "I've always wanted to be famous."

"Great." Tucking the pad into the pocket of her shorts, Monica glanced around for other victims, asking one more question before she left. "Um, just out of curiosity, what're your names?"

Again John answered. "Moondoggie and Gidget."

Kiana responded to Monica's blank stare. "Nicknames."

"Got it. Well, have a good evening and don't forget to come back for date number two."

When she was gone, Kiana and John chuckled together then lapsed into a companionable silence until the band's leader, a guy named Ray, stopped at their table on his way back from break. John excused himself, allowing Ray to lead him to the stage where he showed John to a chair and put an acoustic guitar in his hands. Ray then moved a mic into position for John's use.

"Okay, dudes and dudettes. We got us a real treat tonight. A special guest has agreed to sit in on this set so let's give it up for Moondoggie."

Fascinated, Kiana watched John tune the guitar by ear then play the opening chords to a song she'd never heard. So wrapped up in the fact that he was more engaged in life now than when they'd first met that she didn't pay attention to the lyrics until the second verse.

_I've been wonderin' through this land just a-doin' the best I can_

_Tryin' to find what I was meant to do_

_And the people that I see look as worried as can be_

_And it looks like they are wonderin' too_

_And I can't help but wonder_

_Where I'm bound, where I'm bound_

_Can't help but wonder where I'm bound_

From what she'd observed and the things that Sarah had told her, Kiana couldn't help but think that the words had been written just for John and the way he felt about his life. The song's composer knew that every living person on this world was looking for that one place where they fit in, where they could be themselves and not have to worry that someone would come along and try to change them. But what John, and most others, didn't realize was that we're all changed by the people we meet. They may be in your life for a second or a lifetime, but each of us has an impact on the other.

Shaking her head to dislodge those thoughts, she concentrated on watching John and the band play. John's voice wasn't the best though he played guitar very well. He sang lead on the next few songs then Ray took over until the end of the set.

~~O~~

John and Kiana walked hand-in-hand along the pier on the way back to the car not talking until he drew her to a stop. They leaned on the rail listening to the waves slap against the supports and the people eddying around them. A light breeze carried the thrum of boat engines to his ears sounding lonely and forlorn in the dark. Beside him he heard Kiana sigh. "Tired?"

"A little. You about ready to head home?"

"Soon." Moving his hand to cover hers where it lay on the rail, he drew his fingertips up her arm to her shoulder, exerting just enough pressure to turn her toward him. That same hand found her cheek, his thumb tracing the contours of her face. It was joined by its twin as he methodically touched every feature before tilting her head back and pressing his lips to hers. Her hands came up to grip his wrists. After a moment, he leaned back until their lips lost contact, smiling. "Now I'm ready to go."

~~O~~

Kiana took the bag with John's wetsuit from the trunk passing it to him. "Here you go. I had a good time today."

"Thanks. Me too." He seemed hesitant so she just waited to hear what he would say. "Dinner tomorrow?"

"Can't. What about Thursday?"

"That works." John extended his cane. "Mind pointing me at the front door?"

With a small chuckle, Kiana turned him ninety degrees. "Straight ahead."

"Thanks. 'Night."

~~O~~

The house was quiet though not the kind of quiet that meant everyone was asleep. By this time, Beatrice and Jefferson had gone to their detached apartment behind the house. The kids were probably in bed as well.

He set his bag on a chair in the sitting room, folded the cane and dropped it on top where he could find it easily. A creak came from the floor above telling him someone was still up and around. Probably Stephanie doing her yoga routine. Dave always worked late. He was like Dad that way.

He could hear his father's voice in the den. Thinking Dad and Dave might be working from home tonight John decided to confront both of them at once for how they'd ignored him since he'd arrived except for meals. He grasped the handles to slide the door open, stopping at his father's words.

"It hasn't been easy having him here, but I'm glad he's back…I'm not sure how long he'll be staying. He was blinded in an accident at work…A Lieutenant Colonel in the Air force…No, there's been no change and I'm afraid it might be permanent."

John must have been hearing things because his father actually sounded proud of him. But that couldn't be or he'd have said something. Wouldn't he? Dropping his hands, John continued to listen.

"…no, of course _not_. If his sight doesn't return he'll stay here of course…He's my SON. I'd never put him out on the street…We'll send him to the top specialists in the world and won't stop until we find a cure…Why? He's a _pilot_. If he can't do what he loves…"

It was time to interrupt this conversation and have one of his own with Dad. He knocked on the door and waited to be admitted.

"I have to go…Yes, golf next week." There was a pause then, "Come in."

Opening the door, John took two steps into the room that hadn't changed much since he was a boy. "Can we talk…Father?" A sharp inhale told him he'd surprised Patrick once again. All John's life, Patrick had always insisted on being called Father, but he'd called him Dad as a way to rile the man who'd given him life.

"Of course. Have a seat, John."

With a minimal amount of fumbling, John closed the door made his way to one of the high-backed armchairs, crossing his legs and leaning into the cozy comfort of the cushions. He could tell by the texture of the material that they were either new since he'd been home last or had been recovered.

"What's on your mind, son?"

Keeping his features neutral, John grinned internally. That was the opening he'd been waiting for.

**TBC**

**A/N: **"I Can't Help But Wonder Where I'm Bound" was written by Tom Paxton. Naturally, this version was by Johnny Cash.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** If you didn't receive a review reply, sorry. I've been so busy with RL issues I barely have time to write. Thanks for continuing to read this fic. It's been an emotional rollercoaster for me as well as Shepp.

Thanks to ladygris for the Beta.

_Merci_,

~Sandy

**Broken Mirror**

**Chapter Eight**

John took a moment to organize his thoughts. Not that he needed to, but Patrick would expect it. With him, everything was well thought out in advance, every possible scenario plotted and planned for. He would expect nothing less from his wayward son who only came home because the powers that be wouldn't let him go back to Atlantis. So on this point, he accommodated him. "Father…"

To John's surprise, Patrick chuckled. "Call me Dad."

"Really?" There was a short pause and he could hear his father's shrug.

"David started calling me Dad when Aaron was two and I've gotten used to it."

"What do the kids call you?"

Patrick sighed and leaned back in his high-backed leather office chair. It squeaked and for some reason that annoyed John. Things must have changed quite a bit in the last few years because his father had never tolerated such things in the past. "Gramps." John couldn't help a snort of amusement. "It wasn't _my_ idea. But you didn't come in here for small talk."

"No. Dad, I've been here a couple of weeks now and no one's asked how I got hurt."

"I figured you'd tell us when you were ready."

Patrick stood and John turned his head to follow his footsteps over to the liquor cabinet. He heard liquid being poured and a moment later his dad took him by the hand and placed a glass in it. He inhaled the heady scent of Laphroaig single malt scotch whiskey, taking a sip as he processed the fact that his father had just touched him for the first time since before the announcement of his divorce. It made him forget for the moment what had induced him to knock on the door of the den.

"There was a series of explosions. Five people lost their lives. Several others besides me were injured." John took a sip of the whiskey. "The burns down my left side are nearly healed and the doc said the corneal scarring is gone but…"

"Your eyesight didn't return."

Reluctantly, John shook his head. "No."

"I've been told that visual impairment such as what you're experiencing is actually quite rare."

One side of John's mouth lifted in a cynical smile. "Guess I just had to be different. The story of my life." His father had been standing staring out the patio doors. At least that's how John pictured him. Only in his mind, Dad still had the same dark hair as his own instead of the gray or even white he probably had now. His jacket would be thrown over the back of a chair, sleeves rolled up no higher than just below the elbows, tie loosened and top button undone with one hand in his pocket as he slowly savored the eighteen-year old scotch.

"You seem to be in a hurry to leave."

"I have responsibilities I need to get back to, people who depend on me and…care about me."

After his mother died, his father had spent more and more time at the office or in this room and less time with his sons. John didn't need a professional to tell him that his acts of rebellion were a way to get his father's attention focused on him again, if he'd bothered to ask. Which he hadn't. Though somewhat taken surprised when Kiana told him she was a psychologist, he didn't really care. He liked her and had from the moment she'd escaped from the party into this very room where he too had sought refuge from the sea teeming with land sharks.

"John, why did you…" A knock at the door interrupted what Patrick had been about to say, bringing with it frustration and annoyance, for both men if he interpreted the sound his dad had made. Those emotions deepened when John's father said, "Come in."

The doors opened and John knew who it would be even before he spoke. Dave.

"Sorry to interrupt, John, but I need to talk to Dad. Alone. Please." The last word seemed as if it had been an afterthought, that it wasn't really meant.

John finished off the scotch, located the edge of the desk and set the Waterford crystal glass where it wouldn't fall. He stood, felt his way to the door, passing within inches of his younger brother. "I was just going. Thanks for the _talk_, Dad. And the drink." He couldn't stop the edge of bitterness that crept into his voice.

Dave didn't say a word as the doors shut firmly behind him. Making his way back to the sitting room, he retrieved his bag and cane then climbed the stairs to his room. Once inside, he threw the bag hearing it slam against the bookshelf in the corner and plop onto the floor. Folding the cane, he laid it on the dresser to the right of the door so he'd be able to find it again.

He sat on the side of the bed noting that the linens had been changed and the bed made. Neatly folded on the foot were his freshly washed pajamas. Probably Sophia's doing. He toed off his sneakers, tossing them in the same general direction of the bag holding the wetsuit then took his pajamas into the bathroom so he could brush his teeth and change.

Ready for bed, he lay down on top of the covers, scrunched the pillow under his head and stared at nothing wishing he could see something, _anything_, even just a flicker of light. And though he lay there for some time, once again his wish was not granted.

Wanting to return to the lighter feelings of his date with Kiana, he thought about her gentle and understanding voice. Maybe it was something she'd developed as a shrink or that's just how she was and why she chose that profession. Either way, he'd managed to push aside the guilt of Carson's death and the few seconds of near panic where he'd thought she might be injured or worse and actually have a good time.

Still, he had places to be, things he needed to be doing. But until his sight came back, he'd be right here where the only members of his family that seemed to really care about him were Aaron and Felicia. And Sophia. _Just like always._

Rolling onto his side, John tucked one hand under the pillow and closed his eyes, making plans for the date he had with Kiana. As much as he'd enjoyed their day at the beach, he wanted something different this time. Horseback riding and a picnic sounded perfect.

~~O~~

The doors closed behind John and Dave stood facing them for several seconds before turning, not expecting the harsh glare in his father's eyes or the hard tone of his voice. "What _is_ it, David? You know how hard it's been having him here. He seldom tells us what's on his mind and just when he's ready to talk…"

"I'm sorry for the interruption, Dad. It…"

"_He's_ my son, too and he was finally starting to open up about his work and how he got hurt when you interrupted." Patrick took another swallow of the scotch.

"I honestly didn't mean to exclude him, but this is urgent."

"I'm sure it seems that way, but we've done too much excluding in this family and it's time to stop…before it's too late."

Not quite understanding what his father was saying or what he wasn't saying, Dave continued. "Larson and his team have brought some new information to my attention and we need to talk about it before the children's hospital charity event."

"That's several weeks away." David watched his father's shoulders sag as if a weight had settled on them that he wouldn't be able to hold for long. "I'm tired. Let's just get this over with."

Setting the iPad on the desk, David booted it up while he poured himself a single finger of the scotch.

~~O~~

In the morning, John felt somewhat better about the previous evening with his father and brother though that didn't stop him from still being pissed. His thoughts went back and forth on the matter of his familial relationships until he just ignored them to get some peace.

He made his way down to the bottom of the stairs using the sound of voices to lead him to the informal dining room where Aaron, Felicia and Stephanie were waiting for him to join them before eating breakfast.

"Sorry I'm late, guys."

"Uncle John!" Felicia's little girl voice held excitement at seeing him just before he heard her running footsteps coming toward him. She stopped and he waited to see what she was up to because this wasn't her usual morning routine. Touching him on the hand to let him know she was there, he felt reluctance coming from her. "I'm glad you're here. Um…"

"What's up, kiddo?"

"Mommy says…" she paused and in his mind he pictured her looking to her mother for approval.

"Go ahead, honey," Stephanie encouraged her daughter.

"She says you don't like to be hugged. Is that _true?_" Her voice held a note of disbelief.

"I'm a soldier, kiddo. Not much hugging there. Mostly its handshakes, fist bumps or we just slap each other on the back."

"You don't know _how_ to hug?" Again that skepticism.

"Used to. Kinda got out of the habit."

"Oh." Now she sounded relieved. "What if I _teach_ you_?_ Would you like that?"

From Stephanie John heard a sharp intake of breath as if her child had asked an embarrassing question in public. His first instinct was to run the other way, but being here with his family was about getting to know them again. Or in the case of the kids, in the first place. Crouching, he reached out to hold her hand. "That would be great, kiddo. How do we start?"

"First you gotta put your arms out like this…" the little girl stretched his arms out to the sides. "I'm gonna stand in front of you and put my arms around your neck."

"Okay. Go ahead." John kept himself from pulling away when he felt her arms settle gently around his neck on his shoulders. "Now what?"

"You put your arms around _me._"

He did so. "Like this?"

"Yeah, but you got squeeze a little tighter." He tightened his hug just a little. "That's great. Um, Dad does something else. Wanna try that too?"

"Sure."

"He holds on and picks me up."

Without another thought, John held onto his niece and stood causing her to squeal in delight and hold on even tighter. The swell of affection he had for Felicia staggered him as he set her back on her feet.

"What about you, Aaron?" John turned when he heard the boy's voice next to him.

"Naw. I'm too _old_ for hugs."

"Yeah?" Using the sound of Aaron's breathing to locate him, John decided on a different tactic. Reaching out, he wrapped his left arm around the boy's neck, pulling him close to his side. "What about noogies?" He rubbed the knuckles of his right hand on the top of Aaron's head making him screech in pretend agony.

The merrymaking was interrupted by David. "What's going on?"

"Uncle John gave me _noogies!_"

Releasing Aaron, John felt a small hand slip into his. Felicia again. To his surprise, Dave chuckled. "He used to do that to _me_ all the time."

"Until you got big enough to do it back."

The brothers might have said more to each other, but Felicia was tugging John toward the table. "Come on, Uncle John. Sit next to me."

~~O~~

The next afternoon, Kiana arrived at the Sheppard home dressed in jeans, boots, a cap with the Berkeley logo on the front and the closest thing she had to a western shirt. When John advised her of the dress code for their date she had an idea what it might entail and that scared her. His family owned horses and she'd never ridden one before that wasn't attached a pole and moved up and down as the carousel played _It's a Small World_, a song she'd come to loathe. Climbing out of the car, she left her purse in the trunk and took just her lip gloss, sunscreen and cell phone, certain she'd need all three.

The front door opened and John stepped out with a woman in her late thirties in slacks, a polo shirt and a towel thrown over one shoulder. In that moment, she learned something new about John because he and the woman were conversing in French and his was excellent with no trace of an accent. At least not that she could tell. English was her first and _only_ language.

Instead of mentioning it, she just smiled. "Hey!"

"Hi. Kiana, this is my friend Sophia. Sophia, Kiana."

Extending her hand, Kiana smiled as they shook hands. "Nice to meet you, Sophia."

"Mr. John is much too kind. I am the housekeeper for his _père_."

John touched Sophia on the shoulder. "And that makes you a _saint_ to have put up with him for a long as you have." Sophia slapped him on the shoulder then took his hand and put a picnic basket in it. "_Merci_."

Though he couldn't see it, the housekeeper shook a finger at him in warning. "And do not stay out too late. Your father will be home for dinner tonight. A rare occasion these past months."

Kiana held in a snort of laughter at John muttering under his breath, "Not rare enough."

"I will leave Mr. John in your hands, _mademoiselle_. The stables are that way. _À bientôt._" And she was gone closing the door behind her.

Taking John's hand, Kiana lead the way. With a wry grin and in her best French accent she said, "Come with me, Mr. John."

~~O~~

John listened as the stable hand, Pauly, helped Kiana onto Cap's back. He was the oldest and gentlest of the bays, the one Felicia always rode. For a brief moment he thought about calling it off and just going for a hike, but Kiana had insisted they continue with the date he had planned for them.

Pauly gave Kiana basic instructions and advice, and though she tried to appear calm, he could hear the real fear in her voice. She asked questions and listened to the answers, requesting clarification if she didn't completely understand. When John had enough, he put a stop to it. "Let's get going before Pauly decides to teach you to barrel race." He reached out with his right hand and managed to snag Cap's reins.

"Barrel racing? Should I know what that is?"

"It's a rodeo event where a horse and rider attempt to complete a clover-leaf pattern around preset barrels in the fastest time." He continued to describe the event even going so far as to give her pointers then segued into stories about Dave and he competing against each other.

"Really? I see you more as a football player. The cheerleaders hanging all over you. The geeky girls swooning as you walk by and grace them with that oh so charming smile."

John shrugged. "I did play football, but there any similarity to real life ends. My father sent Dave and I to an all-boys private school that our family founded over a hundred years ago. No girls, cheerleaders _or_ geeks."

He grinned when she snorted. "Bet that didn't stop you from dating one though."

"Okay. You caught me. Elaine Seaforth. She attended the public high school about three miles from here."

"I _knew_ it." The rode in silence for a while, broken only by the sounds of nature around them.

~~O~~

Whether that had been his plan or not, having him talk to her about his life as a teen took her mind off the fact that this was the first time she'd even ridden atop twelve hundred pounds of animal flesh, muscle and bone. It allowed her to relax until she became accustomed to the movement of the horse, her body finally falling into a rhythm. Her left hand had been twisted into Cap's mane, not noticing when she'd let go though she did keep hold of the horn with the right. Slanting her eyes to the left, she saw John with his head turned in her direction as if he could see her. "You're picturing me in a cheerleader uniform, aren't you?"

Again he shrugged, unapologetic about the stereotype. "I'm a _guy_. It's what we _do_." Facing front, he gestured with his chin. "We should be there soon."

"Where?"

"I guess you could call it my Fortress of Solitude. I found this place when I was about nine. Used to come here to hide out when I had a fight with my dad. Practically lived here after Mother…"

Though Kiana waited, he didn't continue. It seemed like he was beginning to trust her with some of his thoughts and emotions, sharing bits and pieces of his past, but he still kept so much of himself in reserve, as if he'd run out if he gave too much away.

That first night when they'd gone for a walk in the grove of trees, she'd come to the conclusion that his situation, the blindness, had to have an emotional cause. It was more from what he _didn't_ say that what he _did_ say. He can't have consciously _wanted_ to be blind, but he must have experienced some awful things in his career as a soldier for his subconscious do this to him. And she hoped that someday he'd trust her enough to tell her the details. Until then, she'd wait and be his friend.

Forcing a smile into her voice, she said, "This looks like the place. Lots of trees, a big pond, a huge clearing off to one side with plenty of room to spread out the blanket."

"Yeah, that's it. We'll have to tie the horses here and walk in."

"I'm ready." John leapt hold of the reins while she got down. As soon as her feet hit the ground, she moaned and rubbed her backside. "Oh, _man!_ I am going to have blisters on my fanny when I get home."

With an overplayed leer, John said, "Let me know if you need a massage." He handed her the picnic basket then got down and took the reins of both horses feeling his way to a small tree as close to the far edge of the pond as possible so the horses could get water. Taking his hand, she led the way through the overgrowth of trees, vines, weeds and bushes until it opened up to the sky again gasping when she saw the vista spread out before her.

The sky seemed to go on forever, bright blue with just a few clouds. On the other side of the pond was an open field that ran up to and around rocky crags that looked like the play toys of some enormous child, tossed aside when interest waned, and left for nature to reclaim.

With great satisfaction, John said, "Now you know why I come here."

Slipping her hand into his again, she looked up at him but he…he was looking into the past.

**TBC**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:** Again, many thanks to ladygris for Beta-ing this chapter. We've both been beset by RL issues lately making me doubly thankful for having her as a friend.

Merci,

~Sandy

**Broken Mirror**

**Chapter Nine**

On their fifth date, John and Kiana went to a country western bar for dinner and dancing. She challenged him to a game of pool as a joke. He took her up on it then paid one of the sharks swimming in the periphery to be his proxy making him the hands-down winner. And being the sore winner that he was, he challenged her to darts. She accepted with the provision that the only help he received from anyone was to aim him at the dartboard. Kiana won, but it was because his last shot went wild ending up in a biker's beer.

She thought the burly guy dressed in leather was going to beat John to a pulp, but somehow, they'd ended up spending the rest of the evening with the guy and his girl laughing and joking. The guy promised to take John on a ride up the coast when he came back from Bike Week in Daytona. None of them mentioned John's eyesight and what it would mean if he hadn't regained it in that time or if the opposite happened and he returned to his duties. Thinking of him becoming whole again made her happy and sad at the same time. She wanted him to regain his sight, but at the same time, doing so would take him away from her. And she wasn't sure how she felt about that.

~~O~~

Date nine…or was it ten? More? John had lost count of how many times he and Kiana had spent time alone or with others in date-like pursuits over the last few weeks.

Today he had a special treat planned. Not just for Kiana, but for the kids as well. Aaron and Felicia were off school for the entire week and as luck would have it, the state fair was in town. He had even convinced Sophia to come along. At first she'd declined because she couldn't afford to be docked a day's pay. She readily agreed when he confessed that he was a little wary of being out in such a chaotic setting as the fairgrounds with two rambunctious kids and wanted an extra pair of adult eyes to help keep them in line.

At one point, the kids had taken him by the hands and dragged him to the Ferris wheel. Felicia and Aaron rode with Sophia while John naturally rode with Kiana. The ride had stopped at the top and John, who'd been here before, again wished he could at least see Kiana's face as she beheld the view. But he was content with the kisses they'd shared until Aaron began making retching sounds from the seat behind them, Sophia gently reprimanding him. On the ground again, he wrapped his arm around the boy's neck but didn't give him a noogie.

When the day was over, all five were exhausted, Sophia and the kids falling asleep in the backseat of the SUV they'd borrowed from Stephanie. John had asked her to come along, but she was head of the charity event for the children's hospital and they still had much to do before the big night.

His sister-in-law had tried to convince him to attend, but he declined. "Pizza and beer is more my style." Though he did promise to think about it for the following year.

As he said good-bye to Kiana with a series of semi-passionate kisses, he enjoyed how over the weeks they'd known each other that she'd given him back something he'd thought he lost with his eyesight. And it wasn't just her.

The possibility that his career in the military was over had wounded him deeply and he'd become depressed, in a sort of mourning for the only existence he'd known for most of his adult life. Flying anything, choppers, jets, F-302's, Jumpers. It didn't matter. Being at the controls of a machine capable of achieving speeds that were unthinkable to many on Earth thrilled him. Some would call him an adrenaline junkie, but they would be wrong. He didn't do it _just_ for the thrill. He did it because it was his _job._ Sworn to protect his world, his country, and by extension, his family, John tried hard to do the right thing. And to him, being in Pegasus with the Atlantis expedition, well that's how he fulfilled his duty. If he couldn't make good on that promise, what kind of man would he be?

A sudden realization made John smile. Kiana, just by being his friend, had made him feel like a man again. A man who could do anything he put his mind to. And that lead him to another realization…that he was falling for her. Through her eyes, and those of Aaron, Felicia and Sophia, who had opened their hearts to him from the moment they'd met, he felt that even if he never regained his sight, in _their_ eyes at least, he had worth, something to offer to world. And that was a very good thing.

**A Few Days Before the Big Event**

The sun was just touching the edges of the rocks and boulders throwing golden beams over everything, including the couple lying on the blanket on a patch of cool grass shaded by the bright green leaves of the trees. The horses were tethered near the water, the saddles on the ground nearby.

John had often ridden bareback when he was younger and though he was confident that he'd be able to even without his eyesight, Kiana was still a novice so he used the saddle as well. At the moment though, the horses and the picnic basket were the last things on their minds.

With Kiana's upper body draped over him, his hands roamed up and down her back making her moan, the sound swallowed by him as he kissed her and she him. The feelings he had for her were so intense, he did know if they were because of his blindness or in spite of it. All he knew is he wanted, needed to be closer to her, to feel…more. To feel something that had nothing to do with his family, his medical condition or returning to Atlantis.

His right hand slipped under the edge of her tank top to touch the skin he'd been fantasizing about for weeks now. What did Kiana look like? What color was her hair, her eyes, her skin? Did she have freckles? A tattoo? Several? He'd asked her to describe herself on several occasions and each time she'd refused. Told him to figure it out himself…so he did.

She didn't wear glasses, her hair was short and she came up to his collarbone. Her waist wasn't small but it wasn't large either though none of that mattered. Without his eyesight, he filled in the blanks with his mind. And again, it didn't matter because he liked her for herself, not for what she looked like, and that told him how shallow he'd been up until now. In the past, he'd been attracted to women who were pretty or beautiful in his opinion. Now, thanks to his blindness, he'd gotten to know a woman for who she is first. Gotten to know the real woman inside what is ostensibly a shell around the mind that he admired and was falling for.

Kiana slipped her hands under John's shoulders, the short nails of her fingers digging into his flesh through this T-shirt as she made sounds that turned his blood hot. Taking that as a signal that she wanted more, the hand under her shirt worked its way up to fumble with her bra strap. And the next thing he knew, she'd pushed away, the loss of her body heat almost chilling.

"Something wrong?"

"No, it's just that…I don't think either of us is ready to go beyond what we have right now."

Trying to lighten the atmosphere, John raised up on his elbows and let one side of his mouth lift in humor. "Don't make me beg. It's not a pretty sight when I have to beg. But if you say no…"

She stopped him with a kiss, her small hands pressed against his cheeks. He wrapped his right hand around her left wrist when she pulled away. "I'm not saying no. I'm saying not yet. We both have things in our past that we need to deal with before taking that step."

"Professional opinion again?"

"You could say that though it's not entirely accurate. Mostly because you won't talk about some aspects of your past. I understand that the work you do for the military is highly classified and if I had to make an educated guess, I'd say it contributed to the breakup of your marriage."

The mood broken, John sat up, bringing his knees up and resting his arms on them. "And you'd be right." He stayed quiet for so long she thought he wasn't going to speak again. "We married just before I enlisted. Once I'd moved up in the ranks, I was gone much of the time, and said she understood. Until one day I came home to find the house empty of furniture aside from the television, a recliner and a few dishes. She'd cooked meals and frozen them for me to nuke in the microwave, enough to last at least a week. I found my belongings in the spare room, hung neatly in the closet and folded in the dresser. My surfboard, scuba equipment and bike were still in the garage.

"On the counter in the kitchen was an envelope with the divorce papers. We hadn't signed a prenuptial agreement and she never asked for anything. On my father's advice, I signed over all of our combined assets, the house, the boat, some property on Catalina where we'd planned on retiring. The only things I kept were my car, the motorcycle and my autographed poster of Johnny Cash that she'd given me for our fifth anniversary."

John didn't know what had gotten into him. He'd never even shared these details with Rodney or Ronon. Yet here he was telling Kiana intimate facts of his failed marriage. "What about you? Something in you'd like to share?"

"Not really. But fair is fair. You told _me_ something highly personal and I should reciprocate. Quid Pro Quo."

~~O~~

John listened to Kiana take a few breaths as if she were gathering her courage. Then she began to speak. "I'd just graduated from Berkeley with a combined Master's degree in forensic and clinical psychology when I became engaged to my high school sweetheart, Darren, a criminal attorney. We decided to wait to get married until we'd both become established in our careers.

"I received my doctorate a few years later and the wedding was planned for the following December twenty-eighth while both our families were in town for Christmas. It saved us from having to pay airfare.

"That spring, I went to work for the San Francisco PD as their staff psychologist. A sniper on the SWAT team…he and his squad had been called to the scene of a shooting turned hostage situation. The father had gotten drunk and killed his soon-to-be ex-wife and her mother then barricaded himself inside the home with their three children.

"The Captain tried to talk him out, but he wouldn't pick up the phone. The sniper, a young man in his early thirties with no family aside from an elderly aunt, stationed himself on a roof across the street, with orders from the Captain to take the shot."

Kiana stopped talking to get a drink of water, passing him a bottle as well.

"Just as he took the shot, one of the kids stepped in the way and was hit instead. He died on the way to the hospital. Jerry blamed himself and was put on indefinite leave. I went to his apartment three times a week as required when a member of the force is involved in a fatal shooting. The first few times, he slammed the door in my face, but when he realized that I wouldn't give up, he finally let me inside.

"The first couple of weeks we talked about everything but the shooting. Then one day, he brought it up, telling me that he would never forgive himself for shooting the boy though eventually he did come to understand that it wasn't his fault. Or so I thought." She paused again, but for a bit of laughter that held no humor. "I should have seen what was really happening, but Darren and I were fighting. Mostly about little things that seemed so _damn_ important at the time and not so much later.

"One day, I went to Jerry's apartment for our scheduled appointment, but he didn't answer the door. His truck was parked outside and I couldn't see in the windows. His Captain came down to speak to the apartment manager. When we opened the door, Jerry was on the sofa, dead from a self-inflicted gunshot to the head, the weapon still in his hand.

"Seeing it as _my_ fault for not getting through to him, I quit. Just walked away from the job and a few months later, Darren left me for one of the junior partners in his firm. I came here to stay with my mother. When my savings began to run out and Mom had gotten tired of me moping around her house all day and night, I opened a private practice locally. That was three years ago."

~~O~~

Kiana let her words fade away and waited for John to say something. Anything. He stayed quiet for the longest time. Getting to her knees, she started gathering up the remains of their meal, shoving it into the picnic basket with more force than necessary until John's hand found hers, griping it tight.

"I'm sorry."

It was just two words softly spoken, but somehow, because they were coming from _him_, they meant more than all the platitudes the pastor of her church had spouted when she'd gone to him for counseling.

"Me too."

Keeping hold of her hand, he lay down, urging her to do the same. His arm slipped around her and she found herself being cuddled against his side. John kissed her tenderly on the forehead and they didn't say another word until the sky had turned completely dark, the stars winking at them from above. And then, though it wasn't much of a surprise, to her at least, she realized that she'd fallen for him. Not hard and fast, but slow and easy. She rested her hand over his heart and closed her eyes.

**The Night of the Children's Hospital Charity Event**

"We'll be _fine_. Kiana will be here soon and she's bringing pizza. We'll watch movies and play video games. Well, _they'll_ watch movies and play video games." Even with these reassurances, John could tell Dave and Stephanie were reluctant to leave.

"You have our cell numbers _and_ Dad's, right?"

John held up his personal cell. "You programmed them yourself. Now _go_ before Dad gets pissed again."

"Okay, okay." Dave opened the front door and ushered his wife through. A short time later, they heard the limo pull out.

"Finally. _Now_ we can have some fun." John set his cell on the table beside the front door and rubbed his hands together. "When Kiana gets here we'll set up shop in the rec room upstairs."

"Great!" Felicia always seemed to be up for whatever John had planned no matter what it was. She'd already talked him into going on another horseback ride in a few days, just the two of them.

On the other hand, Aaron had to complain at least once before agreeing. He was like Dave that way. "Geez! Why we gotta wait for your _girlfriend_?"

"She's _not_ my girlfriend. She's just a girl who happens to be a friend."

"Whatever. Ya know I wish you could play _Fighter Squadron_ with me. I bet you'd be _awesome!_"

John reached out and clipped the boy on the shoulder. "When I'm better. Promise."

The doorbell rang and Aaron rushed to answer it.

"Hi. You must be Aaron. I'm Kiana, a friend of your uncle's."

"Yeah. Hey! You brought _Luigi's_. What kind didya get?"

"One all meat, one supreme and one with just cheese."

John heard Kiana's voice and couldn't stop the smile or the way his heart sped up just a little when she touched his hand. "Hi."

"Hi." To John she sounded as breathless as he felt at her nearness. "Kids, go get the plates, napkins and drinks. We're right behind you." Aaron and Felecia took the pizzas and ran toward the kitchen pushing and shoving each other. Their voices faded behind the kitchen door just as Kiana curved her fingers around his. He gripped back and using that as a guide, turned her toward him to drop a kiss on her mouth.

"Now _that's_ the way to greet a girl at the door. Do that a lot, huh?"

~~O~~

John tucked her hand around his elbow and followed the kids. Cabinets opened and closed with a slam then a few moments later so did the refrigerator. He smiled at her tongue-in-cheek inquiry while she took in his faded jeans, black sneakers and dark blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Plain but on him it looked sexy.

"Not nearly as often as _Rodney_ thinks I do."

He said it with an edge of annoyance, but underneath she could hear the genuine affection John had for his friend, for all his friends, though he wouldn't say so out loud. "Then we'll have to do something about that."

"How about making out in a drive-in instead?"

She squeezed his arm a little tighter. "I'd say, crack the windows so we don't fog up the windshield."

"If the one over on Main hadn't been torched a few years back we could be there right now kissin' our way through the dancing hot dog commercial and Bugs Bunny cartoons."

"Then maybe we should improvise."

John snorted. "That's why I like you. You have _great_ ideas."

"That the _only_ reason?" The steady beat of her heart sped up at his next words.

"No. But we'll talk about it when the kids aren't around." She was glad he couldn't see the silly smile on her face or the embarrassment would be devastating. Just as devastating as his smile. "Tell me something."

"What?"

"What're you wearing?" Not sure how to take that, Kiana didn't respond immediately. He picked up on her discomfort and rushed to set her mind at ease. "I'm not asking for some creepy, stalkerish reason. You won't describe yourself so I'm just trying to get a picture of you in my mind."

"Nothing spectacular. Pink top, jeans and sneakers." He led her to the stairs and they climbed to the second floor. At the doorway of the rec room Kiana let go of his hand knowing he could find his way without assistance. The room was approximately seven hundred square feet with all the gadgets a family needed to keep themselves entertained. "Whoa! What a setup!"

"Yeah. Turns home movies into your worst nightmare."

The group settled down to eat and watch _Spy Kids_. When that was over, they decided to watch the second movie in the series. While the credits were rolling, John sent the kids to get chairs from the dining room setting them up two and two with Aaron and Felicia in front and Kiana and he in the back. They turned out the lights just as the movie started.

A few minutes later, Aaron turned to look at John. "This is _it?_ You just _sit_ in the car to watch the movie?"

"In the real thing you'd hang a speaker on the window so you could hear. Later, you could use the car's radio." John had his arm around Kiana, her head resting on his shoulder. He wanted to be able to see her face, to see if the picture in his head matched. If it didn't, well, too bad. He cared about her and wanted her close no matter what she looked like.

"This is _so_ lame."

"Just _watch_ the movie, pal."

~~O~~

Aaron and Felicia held the bowl of popcorn between them munching and watching Carmen and Junie Cortez kick bad guy butt. Their uncle and Kiana had been quiet so long he held the bowl over his shoulder. "Want some popcorn, Uncle John? Kiana?" When he received no answer, he turned around. John and his girlfriend were kissing, completely wrapped up in each other rather than the movie. He groaned then faced forward again. "If _that's_ why they went to a drive-in then I'm glad there aren't any more."

Totally ignoring what was going on, Felicia used the remote to shut off the movie. "Let's play a game."

Not at all embarrassed to be caught kissing Kiana, John pulled away while keeping his arm around her shoulders. "You play and I'll sit over here and be the cheering section."

Felicia let out a small moue of distress. "Oh! I'm sorry, Uncle John! I keep forgettin' you can't…ow! Whatcha do _that_ for?"

The last was apparently because Aaron had jabbed her with an elbow or punched her on the shoulder. "Felicia! Ya _don't_ have t' keep sayin' he's _blind_. He _knows!_"

~~O~~

"It's okay, pal." John got to his feet bumping into the small table in front of the sofa as he helped move the chairs out of the way. Above the voices of the kids, his hearing picked up a sound that was out of place. "Sh! I heard something."

"Mom and Dad?"

"It's not them. Stay here and _no talking_." He went out into the hall, creeping to the top of the stairs to listen taking care to avoid that board in front of Dave's room that creaked. A moment later, he was back with the others keeping his voice low. "Kiana, cell phone?"

"In the car. Yours?"

"Front hall table. Kids?"

Aaron hadn't liked the tone of John's voice and now stood protectively next to his sister. "Don't have one. What's goin' on?"

"Someone's in the house who does _not_ belong here." He picked up the house phone. No dial tone.

Kiana moved over to touch him on the arm. "How can you tell? It might be your dad or Sophia."

"It's _not._" John knew the sound of each family member's footsteps and the ones he'd heard were made by strangers. Several strangers. "Kiana, take Felicia and Aaron to my room. Go to the bookcase by the bathroom and pull out the First Edition of Moby Dick on the second shelf."

"Why didn't the alarm system go off?"

"Because I didn't think to arm it. The bookshelf opens up into a passageway that'll take you outside. No matter what you hear, if anyone but _me_ comes out, hide until they're gone then go to Beatrice and Jefferson's cottage and call the cops. They're out of town so you'll have to break in."

"What about _you?_"

He snorted. "I can do this in my _sleep_."

"But you aren't _asleep_, John. You're _blind_. What if you get hurt or…worse?"

"Don't argue! Just go! And _be quiet_."

John waited until the sound of their footsteps faded before making his way to the back stairs that came out near the den. In one corner of the den, his dad had a collection of firearms. He remembered spending hours just studying the different weapons hoping one day his dad would actually let him touch them, hold them in his hands, feel the kick when they fired. Now it was something he did every day. He eased the hidden secret door open just a crack and listened. Nothing. They had moved to another part of the house. Good. That would make his next step easier.

When he neared the den, he heard a crunch under his foot. Squatting, he felt around and found what he assumed were what was left of his smashed cell phone.

Slipping inside the den, John went to the bookshelves in the farthest corner. Counting up to the fifth one, he ran his fingers over the spines of the books counting once more until he came to the tome he wanted. He pulled it from between its neighbors, flipping open the cover. Instead of pages of text, inside was a cut out space where he found a single key. With a grin, he carefully made his way to the hidden panel, opened the front, unlocked the case and took out two handguns. After a moment's thought, he decided against using lethal force. Feeling around for some other weapon he could use he found a set of knives new to his dad's collection. He slipped one into the each sock, pulling his pants leg down to cover them then returned to the den doors.

_Time to go in the offensive!_

**TBC**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:** This story is about to get more intense. Lots of angst and drama for John Sheppard and Family. So keep a box of tissues handy just in case.

Ladygris did the Beta again. WooHoo!

~Sandy

**Broken Mirror**

**Chapter Ten**

John pressed his ear to the door to determine the location of the intruders. From the sitting room he heard the hum of voices. Going to the desk, he opened the center drawer and felt around. _Dad has to have a digital recorder in here some…got it!_ John knew he wouldn't be able to identify them by their faces. Maybe he'd get lucky and be able to record their voices. Shoving the small device into his back pocket, he listened then opened the doors just wide enough to slip out.

Flattening his back against the wall below the stairs, he heard the intruders head for the second floor. Four. They stopped when one of the steps creaked then continued, the others avoiding that step.

A voice spoke, the tone and inflection showing that he at least was highly educated as he issued orders to the others.

"_Make it look good. We want them to think the main objective was burglary not stealing the company secrets._"

A second voice responded.

"_Why bother hacking? Just take the computers and let's get the hell outta here before someone comes home._"

A third voice joined the other two.

"_Yeah, Ivan. This place gives me the creeps. It's big and dark and what if they have a __dog__?_"

The first voice spoke again.

"_I spent a lot of time here putting in the new alarm system. They don't have a dog and no one's coming home until well after midnight. The old man, his son and his b**** of a wife of his are at the benefit, the kids are clear across town at their grandparent's and the servants are out of town, so just __do__ as you're told. I'll check out the two bedrooms at the far end. Their laptops have to be here somewhere. They wouldn't've taken 'em to the party. Our employer wants the information on the merger ASAP. Frank, you take that room on the right and Stan, that one then both of you go downstairs and check the other rooms. Barry, you take the office there on the left and the unused bedroom._"

The men agreed and separated. As soon as he heard the doors open and close, John crept down the hall to the back stairs listening to them move around on the floor above. Two came out into the hall, conferred quietly then headed in his direction.

Opening the closet under the stairs, he ducked inside leaving the door ajar enough to hear. Frank and Stan. They entered the kitchen, one opening the refrigerator and the other continuing out the other side and down the hall toward the music room.

John waited until Stan's footsteps could no longer be heard then he made his way to the kitchen. The swinging door made no sound as he eased it open. His head turned to the side, he listened to Frank taking items from the refrigerator and setting them on the island counter. He let the man get as far as swallowing the first bite of the sandwich and a drink of the milk then slipped up behind him and wrapped his arms around Frank's chubby neck.

Dragging him backward, John whispered in his ear, "The invitation said BYOF!" John tightened his hold. Frank fought him, but John had gone up against larger opponents on more than enough occasions to be able to handle this one. The would-be burglar slumped to the floor unconscious in less than thirty seconds.

Returning the way he'd come, John went through the laundry room to the door at the far end that opened into a small workshop where tools were kept. If he remembered right and they hadn't rearranged things in the years he'd been gone, there should be rope hanging on the wall.

"Crap." The rope wasn't where he thought it would be. Feeling around, he finally located it near the outside door. He took the coil of eighth-inch cotton rope and carried it to the workbench. Locating a pair of heavy duty clippers, he cut the rope into approximately eight-foot lengths. Coiling each one, he shoved them into the waistband of his pants to leave his hands free wishing he had a pair of his BDU pants. The pockets would have come in handy about now.

Returning to the kitchen, John opened a drawer and pulled out several hand towels then took a few moments to tie Frank's hands behind his back, looping the rope through his belt for security. He shoved one of the towels in Frank's mouth, and leaving him on his stomach in the middle of the floor, headed for the music room.

Stan apparently wasn't much of a musician. He hit a few piano keys, twanged the strings on an acoustic guitar then created an awful noise with the cello that used to belong to his mother in between ransacking drawers and tossing stuff on the floor to make it look like a burglary. Placing his back to the wall, John waited for Stan to come out and stepped in front of him. He heard a gasp of surprise just ahead of a blast of halitosis. "Oh, crap! You need a tic-tac!"

Before Stan could call for help, John punched him in the face. Stan stumbled back into the room holding his nose and howling in pain. "Ow! You broke my f***ing nose!"

"Well you and your pals broke into my home. Fair's fair." John turned his head to the side listening for Stan's next move.

~~O~~

Stan moved back out of John's reach taking in his aggressive stance, but something wasn't right. He turned his flashlight into John's eyes but he didn't blink or turn away. Waving a hand in front of John's face produced a chuckle.

"Yes, I'm blind. But I can still take you and your little posse out without even breathing hard."

"Yeah. _Right._" Stan kept one hand protectively over his nose. It wasn't bleeding but it hurt like hell. Taking a few steps back, he grinned to himself when John followed, hands out to the side like a gunslinger about to be in a shootout. The thick carpeting muffled the sounds of his movements as he skirted the armchair to his right to get to the door.

He was almost home free when a strong hand clamped on his shoulder and swung him around. Bringing both arms up to defend himself, swinging left and right, connecting with nothing as John dodged right then left. When Stan went for an uppercut, John jumped back. "Been doin' this awhile."

"Sure! And _I'm_ the Easter bunny."

John shrugged indifferently though his mouth twisted into a smirk. "Whatever."

There was a flurry of activity and before Stan could even think of calling for help, he found himself tied up and a small towel jammed in his mouth. John dragged him to his feet, down the hall and shoved him through the kitchen door where he forced him to sit next to Frank who was just beginning to stir. "Stay here while I round up your pals." Squatting down in front of Stan, John patted him on the cheek. "And just to make sure you don't cause any trouble while I'm gone…"

John pulled another length of rope from his pants and tied the two men together back to back.

~~O~~

Barry did his part in making their intrusion look like a break-in by ransacking the upstairs office. After he'd made a mess, he passed through the bathroom into the other bedroom. The room looked like it hadn't been remodeled since the early nineties. Here he found football and track trophies on the dresser, several of them broken. An attempt had been made to repair them, but some pieces were still missing. A head here, an arm there. Picking one up, he read the plaque on the front. "John Sheppard, MVP Senior Year Homecoming Game." The date was in the mid- to late-eighties. "So he's got _two_ sons. Wonder where the other one is."

"Behind you wondering why you're goin' through his stuff."

Stiffening, Barry turned around, the trophy still in one hand. He swung that same hand clipping John on the side of the head, following through then changing direction to get him on the other side.

But that didn't happen. On his return swing, John brought both arms up to block the strike while at the same time kicking out with his right foot catching Barry on the back of the knees and bringing him down to the floor with a grunt.

The trophy flew from his hand getting lost in the dark, but he didn't have time to worry about it because John had flipped him onto his stomach, getting him in a wrist lock. Barry make a scissor kick, knocking John backward onto the bed. He rolled immediately to his feet and John stood as well.

The men exchanged a number of blows which ended when John fell against the bookcase. He opened the passageway, grabbed Barry by the collar and threw him down the stairs. The other man was unconscious by the time he reached the bottom.

~~O~~

John went down the stairs and tied Barry's hands behind his back. Before going out the door that lead to the side yard, he listened for Kiana, Aaron and Felicia hoping they were doing as they were told and hiding or had already called the cops. Dragging his prisoner to the nearest tree, John tied him to it and stuffed a towel in his mouth.

Brushing his hands free of bark and dirt, he felt his way to the door and returned to his bedroom. Listening at the door, he slipped out and down the hall to his father's room. Inside he could hear the ringleader of the intruders tapping away at the computer and cursing when he hit yet another wall in his quest. The door was left ajar so John pushed it open just enough to let him slip inside, but apparently he wasn't as quiet as he thought.

"I'm havin' a _hell_ of a time with these firewalls, Barry. May take longer than I thought. And what the hell was all that noise?"

"Barry is…indisposed and the first password is ArnoBabajanian. The first 'A' and the 'B' are uppercase. No spaces. He's Mother's favorite classical composer."

"Who the _hell_ are _you?_"

Grinning, John extended his hand as if they'd just met. "Sorry. I should have introduced myself. John Sheppard."

"_John_ Sheppard? I thought your name was _David_."

"Don't watch the news much, do ya?" Dropping his hand to his side, John took a step forward. "Dave's my brother. I'm the son Patrick doesn't talk about much. The black sheep of the Sheppard family." Ivan didn't say anything, but John could hear him get to his feet and pick up the chair. "Gotta work on my material. That's the _second_ time I didn't get a laugh with that line."

~~O~~

Ivan still didn't speak as he moved to the side and lowered the chair. The room was dark except for the glow from the computer monitor yet the man in front of his didn't seem to notice. Setting the chair back on the thickly carpeted floor, Ivan chanced moving closer to John, waving his hand in front of his face.

Shrugging, John grinned again pointing to his eyes. "Blind as a bat. Now what'll it be? Will you come peacefully or will I be forced to beat the _crap_ out of you before I call the cops?"

"I'll take door number three." Picking up the black bag with his tools of the trade, Ivan swung it at John's head startled when the other man dodged to the side. John spun around, coming up with a pair of ornate canes that had been in a stand behind the door, one in each hand. He spun them obviously showing off.

But Ivan had skills of his own _and_ he could see. Closing the laptop, he tucked it into his bag and zipped it closed.

Hooking the bag over his shoulder, Ivan snickered as he attempted to slip around John to open the bedroom door. He wasn't permitted to leave, stumbling backward when John smacked him on the back of his thighs with one of the canes. "Sonofa…" He fell against the vanity chair knocking it over and tripping John.

John fell against the edge of the desk with a grunt and a hiss of pain, the canes flying from his hands. Feeling around, his hand closed over a snow globe. He lobbed it in Ivan's general direction and missed, the globe smashing against the wall in a shower of delicate shards of glass and water.

Ivan returned the favor by kicking out and getting John on the upper thigh. "Oh, now _that's_ just _mean_." The chair was kicked out of the way as John got to his feet and advanced on Ivan.

With the door open, Ivan took the opportunity to cut his losses and get out. He'd hole up someplace where he could take his time to hack the computer. "So long, sucker!" Though he knew John couldn't see it, Ivan flipped him a jaunty salute as he backed out of the room and headed for the stairs. He ran the length of the upstairs hall, taking the stairs two at a time. His latex gloves made squeaking sounds on the banister as he reached the bottom. The sound of footsteps on the floor above didn't worry him because the front door was just around the…

His dreams of what he'd do with the money he'd make on this job came crashing down around his ears when he was clotheslined by a strong arm thrust into his path. He choked and moaned at the same time, looking up into the face of the man who'd just confessed to being blind.

Before Ivan could get to his feet again, the bag was ripped from his hand then he was hauled up and turned to face away from John, bent over the small table at the foot of the stairs. In that position, Ivan had no leverage to get away and so was helpless to prevent his hands from being tied. Hot breath hit the side of his face as John leaned close. "I'm also career military, _pal._ Just because I'm blind doesn't mean I can't defend myself _and_ my family."

One hand gripped Ivan's upper arm tightly as John dragged him toward the front door just as they both heard sirens. Tires screeched in the main driveway as John opened the front door. He stepped out and Ivan stopped struggling for there stood twenty of the local PD's finest, weapons aimed and bright light glaring in the dark.

"Freeze!"

~~O~~

Doing as he was told, John held the bag away from his body while still keeping a hold of his prisoner. He waited for someone to take charge of Ivan and it didn't take long. A commanding voice that John didn't recognize shouted an order. "Lower your weapons."

As the man came forward, John produced his ID. "Colonel John Sheppard, USAF. This man and his friends broke in."

"Take him into custody." Protesting all the way, Ivan was shoved into the back of a police car while an officer read him his rights.

Rushing footsteps came toward John and he was relieved of the bag too. "There's two more in the kitchen and one tied to a tree in the side yard." John gestured to the right, gratified to hear a pair of officers head around the side of the house while several more entered the front, their footsteps fading as they moved toward the back of the house.

Dave and Stephanie rushed to John's side as he was led to the back of an ambulance, his sister-in-law touching him on the arm. "Are you okay, John? What happened?"

Shrugging carelessly, John let one side of his mouth lift in amusement. "I'm fine." He kept his left arm close to his body while a member of the forensics team took a sample of the blood from his knuckles. The burns on his side were sore after fighting with the intruders. He bore the rest of the testing and treatment for injuries he hadn't even felt with as much patience as he could muster. More than he'd ever shown to Carson. "Just a little fun and games."

His father's voice, angry and annoyed, shouted above the rest. "You broke the snow globe."

"Excuse me?" John hadn't noticed his father going into the house and now he was being followed by a uniformed cop to make sure he didn't touch anything. Part of that anger no doubt had to do with the fact that they'd have to stay in a hotel, at least for the night. "Sorry. It was the first thing I could grab. What's the big _deal?_ The company secrets are safe."

"It was…never mind. You just don't understand."

Patrick turned away and John grabbed at his sleeve missing, his hand flailing in the air. "Nothing I do is _ever_ going to be good enough for you, is it?"

Patrick didn't turn around, his tone disdainful. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Shaking his head, John lowered his voice. "I know. And that's always been your problem, Dad."

"John…"

"Don't worry. I'm leaving in the morning."

The heavy footfalls of another came to a stop in front of the Sheppard family. "I'm Commissioner Edwards." The man stuck his hand out, waited and when John didn't take it, let it fall to his side. Dave took John's wallet from the Lieutenant at the chief's side and handed it back to John. "Sorry, Colonel Sheppard. You'll have to stick around a few days." He reached into his pocket and took out a card handing it to John, shooting Dave a look when he took the offering and placed it in John's hand. "I need you to come down to the station to give your formal statement and ID the perps."

"Can't do it, Chief."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm _blind_, that's why. I _can_ tell you that Frank's DNA is on the sandwich in the kitchen. Caught him makin' a snack. Stan ransacked the music room." He held out his right hand. "This is his blood. Barry, well I threw him down the stairs behind the bookshelf in my room. His fingerprints will probably be on some of my stuff. And Ivan…" taking the digital recorder from his pocket, he turned it on and Ivan's voice filled the air telling everyone within range that he'd been hired to steal information on the upcoming merger. "He's no Rodney McKay. _Rodney_ could've hacked Dad's computer in his sleep."

"Uncle John!" Aaron's voice shouted.

"Aaron! You okay, pal?" The boy grabbed his arm, John fumbling a bit until he could pull him close.

"Yeah. You?"

"Yeah."

"_Blind?_" Incredulous, Chief Edwards waved a hand in front of John's face.

To Aaron, John said, "He's waving his hand in front of my face, isn't he?"

The boy snorted. "Yeah. How _dumb_ is that?"

John snorted. "Kiana and Felicia?"

"Right here, John." She and his niece were standing in front of him just a few feet away. He reached out and pulled Kiana into a quick hug then he picked Felicia up. The girl hugged him so tight he could barely breathe.

"I was _so_ scared! But I _knew_ you'd catch them!"

"And how did you know that, kiddo?" John set the girl on her feet and she rushed to hug her mother and father before returning to hold John's hand.

"'Cause you're the bravest person I know." She tugged on his arm. "Come on, Uncle John. I'll take you to your room."

"We can't go inside just yet. The police have to look the place over. We'll have to stay in a hotel tonight."

Aaron's voice raised in protest. "Is _she_ gonna be there? Are you and her gonna _kiss_ again!"

"Her _name_ is Kiana and I…" John reached for the woman he'd come to care very much for, but she wasn't there. "Kiana?"

"She's over by the Chief's car talkin' to Gramps and they look _really_ mad."

"Stay with your mom and dad, kiddo." The relief he felt that everyone was safe turned to concern. Why would Kiana be talking to his father? He put his hand on Aaron's shoulder. "Lead the way, pal."

~~O~~

Reluctantly, Kiana followed Patrick far enough from the others that no one could hear. Crossing her arms, she waited for him to speak.

"What has my son been telling you?"

"It's none of your business what John and talk about when we're alone, Mr. Sheppard."

"I _paid_ you to get close to him and want to know what he's been saying about me, about his family. About his _life_ that we're not allowed to know about."

"We've been _over_ this. I _don't_ _work_ for you." She carefully enunciated each word.

Patrick scoffed. "Then why did you accept the payment I had transferred into your bank account?"

The bottom dropped out of Kiana's stomach. She'd been so busy falling in love with John she hadn't bothered to check her account in weeks preferring to allow her assistant to take care of any bills that came up. "_What?_"

Patrick's smile had very little to do with humor and everything to do with arrogance. "You got him out of the house and interested in living again. The money is just to show my appreciation."

"How did you…" Kiana broke off when Aaron spoke.

"Uh-oh."

She swung around to see John and the boy standing not five feet away. Close enough to have heard everything.

**TBC**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N:** Thanks once again to ladygris for reading this over. Shadows-of-Realm read it through too and pronounced it "acceptable."

Thanks,

~Sandy

**Broken Mirror**

**Chapter Eleven**

Kiana searched frantically for something to say that would make the situation better, even if it was a lie, but couldn't. Instead, she opted for the truth. "John, your father tried to hire me to get close to you, to help you. But I…"

"All this time you were just _playing_ me?" He laughed humorlessly. "And I thought…"

"_No_. I told him I wouldn't accept payment and…"

"So you strung me along, analyzed me and you did it for _free?_"

She took a step forward, one hand out to touch his arm. He jerked away and she hung her head. "It wasn't _like_ that. The things I told you, we told each other…" The look in John's eyes was painful to see. He probably thought his expression unreadable, but every thought was there in those hazel orbs that saw more than some did with their eyesight.

"Yeah, about that. Does Darren even exist or did you make him up so I'd feel sorry for you after…"

Patrick stepped in front of Kiana taking the heat of his glare off of her. "What was I supposed to do, John? You wouldn't talk to anyone but the kids and the housekeeper when you first got here."

Over his shoulder, John said, "Aaron, go stay with your mom and dad, please." He waited for the boy's footsteps to fade and when John faced his father again, his shoulders had slumped just a fraction. "You could've just _asked_ me. I'd've told you what you wanted to know. Or are you so afraid of what I might say that you had to hire someone to find out what I'm thinking?"

"It's not _like_ that, son…"

John had started to turn away, swinging around, anger evident in the stiffness of his body and hands clenched at his side. "Do _not_ call me that! You haven't been a real father to me since before Mother died." His hands out in front of him, he started away again. "I'm outta here."

"You have nowhere else to go. Remember?"

"Even a hotel would be better than _here._" John took a few steps then stopped, turning his head just enough to speak over his shoulder, his voice soft. "Sorry I've been such a disappointment, Dad." Felicia's hand slipped into his to lead him through the yard to her mother's side.

Watching him leave, Kiana's eyes filled with tears. Beside her, Patrick heaved a heavy sigh. "Please don't say 'I told you so.'"

"Hadn't planned on it, though I did tell you so." She looked for her car, but it was blocked by several police vehicles and both limos. Before she could stop it, she sniffed and Patrick pounced on it.

"Dr. Saito, are you in love with my son?"

She went to the paramedic and asked for a tissue. Patrick followed. "Does it matter? After what you've done, he won't want to see me again."

"Of course it matters." Patrick signaled to Lieutenant Harper and whispered a few words. The young man nodded and waited. "Take my advice, Dr. Saito. Do _not_ do what _I_ did. Don't give up on him. I _do_ regret not getting to know my son again, and if we can't come to some sort of understanding soon, it could be too late…for either of us."

So caught up in her own misery, Kiana barely noticed the change in Patrick's tone. But once she did, she couldn't ignore it. "Is something wrong, Mr. Sheppard?"

"Nothing you need worry about. This young man is going to take you home. I'll have your car returned to you in the morning."

~~O~~

Having heard everything said between his brother, father and Kiana, Dave returned to his wife's side, Felicia clinging to her mother's hand both watching John where he sat under a tree with his head down, one hand rubbing the back of his head, Aaron beside him. Stephanie looked up at Dave. "What happened?"

"Dad made the mistake of thinking money can solve anything and wound up solving nothing."

"Did you really think that would change just because your brother was in such desperate need of his father's attention?"

Dave rubbed the back of his head, the gesture eerily similar to John's. "No. But I'd hoped." He picked Felicia up and walked over to his brother. "We're leaving for the hotel, John. Chief Edwards will make sure the house is locked up when the CSI team is done."

Aaron got to his feet, brushing grass from the back of his pants. "Ride with us, Uncle John."

His eyes on John's face, Dave saw the slight nod. Felicia wiggled to signal she wanted down then took John's hand again. "You can sit next to me. I like sittin' in the hump seat."

John startled them all by chuckling. "I think you mean _jump_ seat."

She giggled. "Yeah." They weaved their way between the police vehicles to the limo still waiting down the drive. "Where was _your_ favorite place to sit when you were a kid, Uncle John?"

Holding his breath, Dave waited for John to answer. Not that the answer was that important except to Felicia, but the fact that John might give up a little of himself was.

John's smile turned wistful. "Mother's lap."

~~O~~

At breakfast the next morning, John had been adamant about keeping his room in the hotel and sending for his things. That is until Felicia reminded him that he'd promised to come to her music recital and take her and her brother on a horseback ride and picnic. They'd coerced him into it after finding out he'd taken Kiana only they wanted to go to the secret hideout that their uncle and dad had when they were boys.

John snorted to himself. Rodney would have a field day with his own brand of teasing if he found out that they'd nicknamed it the Batcave. They'd found a small opening in the rocky area not far from the pond where John and Kiana had picnicked. They used to spend hours playing Batman and Robin with the occasional venture into Spiderman and the Green Hornet.

Now that he was alone in his room John allowed thoughts and emotions from the night before to surface making him angry all over again. He stood at the dresser staring at the mirror still not able to see anything and that amplified the anger. There _had_ to be a reason for his sight not returning aside from the explosion. Those wounds had healed weeks ago and still nothing. Not even a glimmer of light.

He pushed away, pacing from one side of the room to the other, his foot kicking one of his trophies that had been knocked down when he fought with Barry. Picking it up, he started to return it to the dresser. Instead, the rage surged, he turned and threw the trophy as hard as he could smashing the mirror. Standing in the midst of the fragments of his reflection, he resisted the urge to keep throwing things until there was nothing left of the boy _or_ the man that he'd been until the day Carson died.

The sound of running feet on the stairs then in the hall stopped as his door was flung open.

"John! What the _hell_ is going on?" Dave's voice held fear and shock.

Though she didn't say anything, John could hear breathing and guessed that Stephanie had come in with his brother. Fine time for them to start caring, after he'd been hurt not only by his father-again, but by the woman he'd fallen in love with. "Nothing. Just leave me alone."

He pushed past them into the bathroom and slammed the door.

~~O~~

Knocking on John's bedroom door a few hours later, Sophia waited for permission to enter. She knew he was still in there because he hadn't come out since the family's return. Mr. Patrick hadn't come home with them having left straight from the hotel to go on a business trip.

When no response came, she eased the door open and carried the tray to the desk careful to avoid the broken glass. John was sitting in a chair facing the window, one hand pulling at his lower lip in thought. She came to stand beside him surprised when he spoke, this time in English rather than French as had been their habit since his arrival.

"Sophia, what does a man do when he looks at his life and all he sees a broken mirror?"

"He turns his back and looks only to the future." She laid a hand on his shoulder and for once didn't shy away. "I will come back later to clean up."

"Don't. I like it this way. It makes me look how I feel. At least I _think_ it does."

"John, this feeling of betrayal is something that only time will relieve. But know that there are people here who truly do love you, more than you will ever know. I understand that you wish to wallow in your anger at your father, but I also know that you cannot stay here. This depression is _not_ who you are. You would never have achieved your rank if it was. It is time for you to rediscover who John Sheppard the man is and stop defining him by what he is or is not able to do."

She squeezed his shoulder one last time then left him alone.

~~O~~

"…and _hurry_, Uncle John. We're leavin' soon!" Felicia's voice penetrated John's bedroom door making him scowl. Not that he'd done much else since the night of the attempted burglary, but now it was different. Before his shower, he'd laid out the best of his jeans and shirts to wear to her recital tonight and when he'd come out, they were gone as was the rest of his clothes except for his pajamas. With a snort he reasoned that he could hardly turn up in sweat pants and a T-shirt with holes under the arms.

Going to the door, John jerked it open and waited, but no one spoke. He angled his head down as if he could see the person he was addressing. "What did you do with my clothes, Sophia?"

"They are in the laundry, Mr. John."

"All of them? You _knew_ we had this thing tonight."

"Oh, dear. Is that _tonight?_ I am _so sorry_, but your clothes will not be dry in time."

Hearing the smirk in her voice, John crossed his arms and used his death glare, which Sophia ignored as she always did. "What the hell am I gonna wear?"

She pushed past him into the room and opened the closet. "Perhaps one of these suits."

"They're from _high school_. They don't fit and are _way_ out of style."

"What about this blue uniform?"

"My dress blues?" The picture of the last time he'd worn his dress uniform flickered in his brain then was banished. "Definitely not!"

Again she didn't listen to him. She took the garment bag out and hung it on the back of the door. Taking out the jacket, she held it up in front of him. "Felicia would love to show off that her uncle is the handsomest man in America and this will do very nicely."

"You really fight _dirty_, Sophia." Twisting his mouth into grudging acceptance, John snatched the hanger from her hand and tossed it on the bed then waited, but she didn't leave. "I can dress myself, you know."

"_Oui_. I was just waiting to see if that towel would fall off." The door closed on her laughter.

John dressed and made his way downstairs just in time to leave for the recital. Felicia praised him for his choice, walking into the auditorium proudly holding his hand. And John spent the most of the evening fending off the advances of the mothers of the other performers. Many were single. Some were not. He bore the attention with charm and wit making the circle of ladies laugh with anecdotes of his own music recitals. He described the shocked faces of his family and the audience when he would disregard the classical arrangements for acoustic guitar and play a Johnny Cash tune. Several of the women had slipped a piece of paper into his hand after he'd told them he hadn't brought his cell with him. He'd just gotten a new phone but didn't want them to know. At least this way he could claim he'd lost their numbers. Felicia finally rescued him by taking his hand and leading him over to meet her classmates and friends.

~~O~~

A few days later, Beatrice packed a picnic for John, Aaron and Felicia to take with them on their ride out to the Batcave. Already astride Mahj, Aaron watched his uncle help his sister onto Cap's back before mounting LC. John grabbed Mahj's left rein telling Aaron that he would be leading their little group.

"Let's head out before it gets too hot."

"Okay." Aaron clicked his tongue and gave Mahj a nudge with his heels to get him started and they were off. He watched John's face as he talked and joked with the two of them though there was sadness in his eyes that even the boy could see. The fight he'd overheard between his uncle, grandfather and Kiana didn't make a lot of sense though he did understand that it was Gramps' fault that John had stayed away so long. Now that he was here Aaron hoped that once his eyesight returned he'd come home more often.

They'd only been riding for a few minutes when Cap started acting skittish. Searching the ground, Aaron saw a snake slithering into the grass. Cap made a jump to the side, turned in a circle then reared up whinnying loudly. Felicia patted him on the neck to calm him just as she'd done in the past and a moment later the bay took off at a full gallop with her clinging to his mane. "Felicia!"

"Something must've spooked him." Though he had to be scared too, John's voice was calm. He reached into his back pocket and handed over his phone. "Call 911 and your dad! I'm going after her!"

And before Aaron could say another word, his uncle was gone as well. How he'd help Felicia without being able to see, he didn't know. All the boy knew was they needed help and _fast_. Using his thumb to dial, Aaron called 911.

~~O~~

His heart racing, John spurred LC faster, his niece calling out leading him to her. His horse was younger and faster than Cap allowing him to catch up. If they were headed in the direction he thought they were, he had to stop them soon or Felicia and Cap would go right over the edge of a high cliff into the Pacific Ocean. The thought that he'd be responsible for the loss of yet another life, especially one so young, created an ache in his chest making him work harder just to breathe.

He'd seen this happen before. Not in person of course, but he knew enough about horses to know that once spooked, they'd run until something stopped them. And he couldn't…_wouldn't_ let that happen now.

"Aaaahhh! Uncle John!"

"I'm coming, kiddo! Hang on!"

All he needed was a few more seconds…and his eyesight. With a curse that he wouldn't normally have uttered aloud in the presence of any but another adult male, he veered to the right, edging LC closer to Cap's left side. At any moment, Felicia could lose her grip and fall off only to be trampled by the enormous animal's hooves. Cap could stumble or stop suddenly throwing her up and over. She was only a child. The impact would likely kill her and that thought changed the curse into a prayer.

Pain shot through his head causing him to squeeze his eyes shut and press a hand to his forehead. Shaking off the pain and a wave of vertigo, he opened his eyes again.

Felicia and Cap were so close now he could smell the strawberry shampoo she used to wash her hair. Stretching out with his right hand, he attempted to grab the back of the girl's shirt hoping the material would hold up under the strain…and missed. Taking a deep breath, he tried again.

~~O~~

Felicia had never been so frightened in her life. The men who'd broken into the house had scared her, but this was _worse_. Cap had always been calm and gentle, but now he was running wildly through the trees and out into the field that led to the cliff. At the bottom, she knew, were huge rocks. She loved to sit and listen to the waves crash upon them dreaming of things like ancient sailing ships and great storms that thundered over the land and water. Now all she could think about was her mom, dad, brother, grandfather and uncle. About how much she loved them and didn't want to leave them so soon.

She heard John calling out to her and knew everything would be alright. He was a _hero_. He'd save her.

**TBC**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N:** Many, many thanks to ladygris for doing the Beta thing once again.

Namaste,

~Sandy

**Broken Mirror**

**Chapter Twelve**

A bright light appeared in front of John starting at the periphery growing until it covered everything followed by a sharp pain in the middle of his forehead. The fear that Felicia might die crossed his mind again just as light faded. He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her out of the saddle over onto his horse. He kept hold of her with one arm as he reined LC to a stop. She held onto him so tight he thought she might never let go and he felt the same way wrapping both arms around her while still keeping hold of the reins. Her head rested against the side of his neck, hot and fast breaths hitting his skin, little moans on the end of each exhale. Ahead of them, Cap came to a stop, looked around as if he had no idea where he was and began munching on grass like nothing had happened. When she finally loosened her grip, he used both hands to tilt her head up. "You okay?"

"Yeah." Felicia's hands still held his shirt in a death grip. "You-you saved me!"

"Had to. You're my favorite niece." John let his thumbs rub the tears from her cheeks feeling a stinging in the back of his own eyes. His moth dropped open, a small gasp coming from his throat. "Oh, my God. You look just like your grandmother."

Giggling, she brought her hands up to touch his unshaven cheeks. "That's what _Daddy_ says. Wait! You can _see?_"

"Yeah. I can see." John grinned at her blinking away tears. After being in total darkness for weeks, the sunlight was dazzling and probably would be for a while. At least that's what he told himself. Again he was enveloped in a hug just as Aaron caught up to them.

"You okay, Fee?"

"Yeah. And guess _what?_ Uncle John can SEE!"

Aaron turned Mahj so he could see for himself. "Hey! Way cool!"

"The coolest." He and the boy traded fist bumps. John couldn't stop looking at everything around him, taking in the scenery of one of his boyhood homes, a place he thought he would never be able to see again except in his memories. He especially couldn't stop looking at his niece and nephew. From far away, the sound of sirens reached them and moments, later three police cars, two ambulances and a dark green jeep skidded to a stop. LC shifted his feet and John pulled on the reins. "Whoa, boy."

John turned the horse around as Dave and Stephanie ran to their side. He lowered Felicia into their arms all three babbling at once. Stephanie led the girl to the first ambulance to have her checked over by the paramedic, Dave staying behind. "I don't know how you did it, John, but thank you for saving my daughter."

Shrugging, John kept his eyes on his brother's face for a while taking in all the little changes since they'd seen each other last. Lifting his eyes to watch his sister-in-law and niece, he deliberately kept his tone casual, disinterested. "Gettin' gray, little brother."

A rueful smile coming to his face, Dave ran a hand through light brown hair slightly more tamable than his brother's. "Try working with Dad and see how many _you_ have."

John's grin matched his brother's. "No thanks. The job I have is stressful enough."

His brother's gaze came back to his so quickly John thought he'd crack a vertebra in his neck. "You can see?"

"Cap was headed for the cliffs. Just needed the right motivation, I guess." Again John shrugged, uncomfortable talking about his feelings. Dismounting, he stood beside Dave as Stephanie and Felicia walked over to them.

"John, how did you…"

"Changed your hair, Steph. I like it."

Like her husband, Stephanie grinned at the revelation that John could see again only she was less restrained in her enthusiasm. She threw her arms around John and hugged him tight for a few seconds. "Dad'll be so… Oh, sorry. I shouldn't have…"

"It's fine." John waved away her apology as Dave went to Cap's side, patting the animal on the neck, Felicia right behind him. Watching the girl run her hand down the bay's nose, he thought how fearless she was. Most kids would be afraid to even go near a horse after her experience, but not her. He hadn't been kidding when he told her she looked like her grandmother. Felicia had Abigail's smile, just like her uncle, with a dimple only on the right side like her dad. But that lack of fear…she had to have gotten it from her grandfather because the only thing _Patrick_ seemed to be afraid of was expressing his feelings in a positive manner. Like father, like son.

Deciding to stay until his dad returned from his business trip so they could really talk this time, John vaulted back onto LC's back and turned him in the direction of the stables. After all this excitement, John no longer felt like crawling into the Batcave. But now, as the police finished taking their report and the ambulances drove away, something else that John had been meaning to ask came up. "Who named the horses?"

Dave shoved both hands in his pockets. "Dad. Why?"

The look on his brother's face begged him to ask the next question. "Cap, Mahj and LC? Was he drunk or delirious?"

"Neither." Dave took a few steps, his eyes on the ground in front of him. "Their names are Captain, Major and Lieutenant Colonel, each purchased the year you were promoted to that rank."

Speechless, John glanced sharply at Dave then away. He didn't speak again until they reached the stables having more than enough to think about for now.

~~O~~

Again, Dave eyed John as he helped stable the horses and brush them down. The expression on his face at the knowledge that his father was so proud of him that he'd name horses after him, well that made Dave chuckle just a little. He pulled the jeep around to the garage and followed Stephanie into the house.

Aaron went to the kitchen with the uneaten picnic food and twenty minutes later the family was called to the patio by the pool for lunch. Fried chicken, potato salad, pickles, hard boiled eggs, iced tea and apples may not have been the most nutritious meal they'd ever consumed, but it was one of the best because now John knew the truth. Or part of it at least. _And_ it was a celebration for the return of John's eyesight.

Dave knew that John had no idea why Dad had been so upset by the loss of the snow globe. But it wasn't his place to provide that information. He'd talked to Dad before he left on his business trip urging him to postpone it, to come home, but he'd been resistant telling him that the work he had to do couldn't wait. They'd gotten into a heated argument over it which ended when the bell staff knocked on the door to inform him that the limo had arrived to take him to the airport.

The kids urged John to join them in tossing a Frisbee around taking his brother's attention before they could get into some angst-filled conversation like the one they'd had the day before. Neither of them had really said anything important, but at least they'd talked.

~~O~~

Tired from the events of the day, John made his way wearily to the second floor. He smelled of fried chicken, horse and sweat, and couldn't wait to take a long hot shower. At the end of the hall a woman barely five feet tall wearing khaki slacks, sneakers and a dark blue polo shirt was winding the cord on the vacuum. As his imagination had told him, she was just a little on the chubby side with dark hair. Now all he needed to know was the color of her eyes and if she had the cheeky smile he'd envisioned. He waited until she noticed him to say anything. "Evenin', Sophia."

"I heard there was some excitement today."

Her smile didn't reach her eyes, the color of the sky in the afternoon. He'd asked the family not to mention the return of his eyesight as he'd wanted to surprise her. "No big deal."

She touched him on the arm as she always did to let him know she was there. "You saved the child. That most certainly _is _a big deal."

"All in a day's work for us heroes." He let one side of his mouth lift in a wry grin so she'd know he was kidding. Pushing open his bedroom door, he noted that she'd cleaned up all the broken glass from the mirror as well as straightened what was left of his trophies and dusted everything within an inch of its life. "Sophia!"

"Yes, Mr. John?"

"Didn't I tell you _not_ to clean up the mess?"

"_Oui._" Her tone told him she didn't care if he was angry. He'd stopped just inside the room, his arms crossed in pretend annoyance and a moment later she understood. "_Oh mon dieu!_ You can see again!" Her hands reached up to touch his cheeks, and suddenly there it was…the smile that lit up the room. "I am so happy for you!"

She kissed him on each cheek then pulled a tissue from her pocket to dab at her eyes as she left him alone.

**Over A Week Later**

"Sorry, kids. Gotta go. The doc wants to have a look at my eyes before she lets me go back to work." The disappointment on Aaron's and Felicia's faces as he stowed his gear in the trunk of the cab made him feel like a heel for leaving. But the Wraith wouldn't stop their attacks on human populated worlds just because he wanted to spend more time with his family.

Felicia held both his hands until he dropped them to pick her up. "You're comin' for Christmas, right?"

"You bet. I'll be here on the twenty-third."

"Great!" She wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed.

He put her down and traded fist bumps with Aaron. "Keep practicing those games and maybe next time you'll win, pal."

"I will. A new one's comin' out. Maybe I'll get it for Christmas."

"Maybe." He wrapped an arm around the boy's neck, gave him a quick noogie and released him. Before climbing into the back seat of the cab, he waved to his family. Dave, Stephanie, Felicia, Aaron…and Sophia. The only one not there was his dad. Slamming the door, he gave the address of the local USAF base. John resisted looking back until they reached the end of the drive, but by then the front door was obscured by trees and bushes. Finally he was going home, back to Atlantis. So why did he feel like he'd just _left_ his home?

Fishing his cell phone out of his back pocket, he scrolled his contact list until he came to Kiana's name his thumb rubbing the send key. Over the last week he'd started to call her more than a few times, but the bitter taste of betrayal still lingered. Most nights, she still haunted his dreams, their time together replaying endlessly in his mind as he examined each and every word she'd said to him looking for the hidden meaning, for the things she wasn't saying. He second guessed every word as well as his feelings. _I thought I was in love with her. I feel like a __fool__._

And with those thoughts, it came to him that he certainly would've seen the truth had he actually been able to see her eyes, to read her body language. Then he would have known that she was only in it for…what? If she _wasn't_ working for his dad, why had she called him? Maybe she really did like him as much as she'd said. He would have liked to at least seen her, to see if his image of her matched the reality. Scowling, he pressed the end key until the phone shut off then shoved it into his pocket and settled back to watch the scenery roll by.

~~O~~

Dr. Henry Sanders knocked and entered the hospital room. His patient was dozing in bed, a pad and pen under his right hand. He didn't want to wake him, but they had to talk before tomorrow's procedure.

"Patrick?"

"I'm not asleep, Henry." He opened his eyes and tossed the pad and pen on the table. "Shouldn't you be resting up for tomorrow?"

"We have to talk." Henry pulled a chair around so he could see his friend and sat down. "I'd've thought David at least would be here."

"I didn't tell them about this test. Now don't look at me like that." Patrick rubbed his eyes and yawned. "If the test is positive, having them here won't change anything. If it's negative then they don't even need to know about it."

"Fine. Let's talk about something else. John, your blind son, a Lieutenant Colonel in the United States Air Force, single-handedly takes down four would-be burglars possibly saving the lives of your grandchildren _and_ his girlfriend, not to mention the entire Sheppard family fortune, and you had not one word of praise for him?"

"How…"

"I told you. Word gets around." Shifting in his seat, Henry crossed his arms and glared. "I have one question."

"Let's pretend I have _no idea_ what that question is."

"Are you _out_ of your f***ing _mind?_"

Instead of taking offense and offering explanations, Patrick just sighed. "On the contrary, Henry. I think I'm finally in my right mind for the first time since Abigail died." He picked up the pad again. "I've been putting my thoughts on paper so I know what to say to my boys when I get home."

Standing, Henry moved the chair back into place and went to the door, turning back to smile at his friend. "Good."

~~O~~

Flipping the lights back on, Carolyn Lam set the device she was holding aside and faced John with a smile. "Well, Colonel looks like everything's in perfect working order again, though you do have a small astigmatism in your left eye. It's not a big deal, but let Dr. Keller know if you experience any difficulties with your vision." Going to the computer, she scrolled through the notes from Dr. Ang at the Air Force base in southern California. He'd examined John periodically during his convalescence and had seen no improvement. Then suddenly, his sight had come back.

"I'll let her know." John got to his feet just as Cameron Mitchell knocked on the exam room door. "Mitchell."

"Sheppard." The men shook hands. "I see the ol' peepers are workin' again."

"Yeah. The doc just gave me a clean bill of health. I'm leaving for Atlantis on the _Daedalus_ in three days."

"Not so fast, Colonel. You still have to be cleared by Dr. Adams." Carolyn held up her hand to forestall the inevitable argument. "Save it. This comes right from the top. Without her seal of approval…"

"She in her office? Maybe we can get started tonight."

"Yes, but I she won't be there for much longer so you better hurry."

Watching John jog out of the Infirmary, Carolyn shook her head then grinned as she faced Cam. "I'm ready to go when you are." She shed her lab coat on the way to her office showing that she was wearing a simple black dress underneath instead of her uniform. After she changed her shoes, she jumped when Cam wrapped his arms around her from behind, dropping a kiss on the side of her neck exposed by her ponytail. "Cam! What if my dad sees us?"

"Then I guess it'd be time to tell him I'm in love with his daughter."

"You just _did_, Colonel Mitchell. Or should I say 'son'?"

Cam released her so abruptly she stumbled. Rolling her eyes, she stood between the two men.

"This isn't…what I mean is…I'm…she…" Hands clasped behind his back, her dad looked Cam straight in the eye without blinking. He'd done this before, using that stare to intimidate her dates and she was tired of it. But before she could move to intervene, Cam grinned. "I haven't even _asked_ her yet, sir."

"No time like the present, I say. FYI - I'd like to have grandchildren before I'm too old to spoil them."

Carolyn's indignant "Da-ad!" fell on deaf ears as Cam responded to the outrageous statement.

"I…I'll see what I can do, sir." They both watched Landry return the way he'd come without looking back.

"Cam?" Carolyn couldn't say more than that. She was shocked beyond words that he'd planned on proposing.

"We _were_ gonna have a romantic dinner and a walk in the moonlight first." He took a small black velvet box from his pocket. "Carolyn…"

Before he could open the box or, God forbid, get down on one knee, she covered his hand with hers. "Then let's not waste those plans." She took his other hand in hers and drew him out of the Infirmary to the lifts.

~~O~~

John skidded to a stop in front of Morticia's office and was about to knock when the door opened from the inside. Morticia and Richard Woolsey were coming out, both looking more than a little smitten with each other.

"I was just coming to see you, doc. Uh…" John couldn't help but stare. Walter had not exaggerated Morticia's beauty or the color of her eyes. Hers were a deep purple, like the skin of a plum. To him, she looked like one of his favorite actresses, Paget Brewster, but taller.

"Sorry. Office hours are over for the day." She tucked her hand around Woolsey's elbow, the couple heading for the lifts at the end of the hall. "Ten tomorrow morning, Colonel. Don't be late."

"No, ma'am."

**Several Weeks Later**

**Geothermal Drilling Platform**

"We have a lot of exploring to do." Elizabeth told her companions.

"We?" That was something John hadn't expected, to have Elizabeth join in the grunt work of checking out the mobile drilling platform.

"Until Rodney delivers the preliminary status report, I'm all yours. Put me to work, Colonel."

"Alright, let's make up some time. Break into teams. Ronon, you're with Teyla. Elizabeth, you're with me or I'm with you, however you wanna put it."

Ronon handed John a rifle and he walked off with Elizabeth following him. "_Ee_-ther way…or _Eye_-ther way."

John and Elizabeth walked in silence until they came to a junction. By mutual agreement, they turned and kept walking. Wrinkling his nose at the dank smell of millennia of disuse, John stifled a sneeze. Since his return to active duty, all of his senses, including sight, seemed to be sharper. Not always a good thing. He supposed it was a side effect from the months of relying on just his other four senses to guide him.

"It's good to have you back, John."

One side of his mouth lifted in a smile. "Thanks. It's good to _be_ back."

"What did you…"

The lights went out, plunging them into darkness.

**TBC**

**A/N:** No, Cam and Carolyn have nothing to do with the story but they insisted I include them anyway.

SL


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N:**As always, thanks to ladygris for the Beta.

_Merci_,

~Sandy

**Broken Mirror**

**Chapter Thirteen**

Flicking on the flashlight on his weapon, John held in a small shimmy of fear then just as quickly scoffed silently at himself. It was the lights that were out, not his eyesight. Still, it would be a while until he fully relaxed when the lights suddenly went out.

Creeping through the corridors, all senses alert, he kept his voice low. "I _hate_ the dark."

"Not afraid are you?" Elizabeth displayed a teasing grin.

"No. It just reminds me of the break-in. I know I made it look easy, but it wasn't. I had no idea if they were armed or what weapons they might have if they were. Did they know we were in the house? What if they went outside and found the kids and my…friend and hurt them?

"But you caught them."

"Yes, but…" Up ahead, John saw Rodney peering into the inky blackness. He jumped when he and Elizabeth approached.

"_There_ you are."

A short time later there was gunfire in one of the auxiliary control rooms. Teyla's mind had been controlled by the Wraith queen who had been at the bottom of the ocean for thousands of years. She'd used the Athosian to wreak havoc on the systems, setting up force fields and using them to coerce the Atlanteans into taking her to the surface. Eventually they were able to use Teyla's gift to trick the queen into an ambush where John and Rodney killed her leaving the drilling station for the Atlanteans.

~~O~~

The _Apollo_, under the command of Colonel Abe Ellis, arrived with a plan to eliminate the Asurans once and for all. Unfortunately, the plan didn't work and the human form Replicators made a counter attack forcing Atlantis to flee the planet that had been its home for more than ten thousand years.

Dropping out of hyperspace, they were adrift with little power and less time. The expedition was also without its commander. Elizabeth Weir had been critically injured when the Asuran's beam grazed the tower causing a massive explosion and the only way to save her was to put her life, and the lives of the expedition, in danger. Every moment of every day was a risk, and soon that would be brought home to them all in an unforgettable way.

During a clandestine mission to the Replicator homeworld where they hoped to steal ZPMs with which to power the city, Elizabeth was lost. Not in the traditional sense, but in the sense that she had given up her life to save Rodney, John, Ronon and Teyla, and by extension, the rest of the expedition.

That loss still hurt and always would. He'd let Rodney talk him into the heist though it hadn't taken much convincing. If they didn't want to die adrift in space, they had to find additional power for the shields and stardrive. But Elizabeth's life was too high a price to pay. John had cared about her in the way he cared about all his friends. They had shared a bond that was forged out of shared dangers as well as triumphs over impossible odds. And somehow, that made it even worse.

~~O~~

_Time is an illusion. Lunch time doubly so. _

Words of wisdom from an intergalactic travel editor stranded on Earth. Take a guy with two heads and three arms, throw in a hot girlfriend, a guy in a bathrobe and a depressed robot and you have the makings of a very strange and wild ride through time and space.

And though John fancied himself the cool guy, the one with the extra appendages, at the moment he felt more like the robot. If it kept up, he'd end up parking cars at The Restaurant at the End of the Universe while the hottest ticket in the known universe spent the year dead for tax purposes.

Rolling over onto his other side, John punched his pillow into submission and pulled the sheet up to his neck. He wasn't cold, but somehow it made him feel a little better, not as vulnerable.

After another fifteen minutes of lying awake, John got went to the mini fridge and pulled out a bottle of ice cold beer. He twisted the top off and took a long drink hoping to finally stop the wheels in his head from turning so fast they made him dizzy.

It had been several weeks since Atlantis had come to New Lantea. Less since they'd lost Elizabeth to the Replicators. Carter had taken over as their commander and things returned to normal. At least for everyone else. John still couldn't stop thinking about Kiana and his dad. In his mind they'd become interchangeable, both frustrating the hell out of him as well engendering huge disappointment…and embarrassment.

He finished off the beer, brushed his teeth again, and picked up the comic on his bedside table. By the time Spidey had trounced his newest foe, John was ready to sleep. He reached out with his mind and shut the lights out. Having the ATA gene sure made things more convenient. Now if it would only stop him from feeling like a jerk.

_And why do you feel like a jerk?_

*Bedtime is an illusion too apparently.* Kiana.

_She tried to explain, but would you let her? No._

Because I've heard it all before.

_If you did make up with her, what do you think will happen? Presuming she'd want anything to do with a jerk, how would she handle a long distance relationship?_

She could come here. We need a new staff shrink.

_I don't know. Pegasus is a dangerous place. _

Tell her about Atlantis and let her decide for herself.

_That brings us back to why she would want anything more to do with you._

You have a point. Remember Nancy?

_Don't be an a*****e!_

Do you also remember finding out that she'd been seeing Grant for almost a year before she asked a divorce?

_And where were you all that time?_

You _know_ where I was. That mission was so secret even_ I_ didn't know where were going until we got there.

_And you expected Nancy to what? Stay at home like a good little wife, a candle in the window, waiting to welcome home her husband the hero with a kiss and a hot meal? Women get lonely too. Do you really fault her for finding someone who was there all the time instead of off God knows where doing God knows what?_

Of course not, but it still hurt. And I didn't cheat on her.

_*scoff*_

Okay. But it was just the one time. Our squad had just spent months cut off from the base, living off the land when our supplies ran out, hiding from rebels who'd just as soon shoot us a look at us. She needed comfort and so did I, something good to offset the…

_That was different how?_

It _wasn't_ different. When I came home I told her, confessed all.

_And she forgave you._

Yeah. But I wasn't in love with…I don't even remember her name. Can we _please_ talk about something else?

_Sure. Dad._

What _about_ him?

_Isn't it time to let go of the past? That was Sophia's suggestion, as I recall._

Maybe. *sigh* Fine. _Yes,_ it was.

_So?_

What? Just call him up and say "all is forgiven"?

_Why not start with "I love you, Dad" and go from there._

Can't we just get some sleep? We have a mission in the morning.

_You haven't heard the last of this._

Didn't think I had.

_You know McKay has an ongoing bet with Zelenka, right? This mission is the pay-up-or-shut-up._

Whatever.

The voice in his head finally shut up and John was able to go to sleep at last.

~~O~~

Whistling as he walked, Chuck left the transporter and stopped in front of John's door, rocking on his toes as he waited for the chime to be answered.

"Yeah?"

"Sorry to bother you, Colonel, but I have a letter for you." He held out a long white envelope. It was battered around the edges showing that it had been examined in every way possible for potential threats to the expedition.

"An actual _letter?_" John took the envelop from him and looked at it as if he'd never seen one before.

"Yes, sir." Nodding, Chuck returned to his duty station leaving his puzzled CO standing in the doorway.

~~O~~

John still had a few minutes before he had to gear up for the mission so he tore open the envelop and pulled out several sheets of paper surprised to see they were in his father's handwriting. Unfolding them, he just stared at the date at the top of the page. It had been written just a few days after his return to the SGC. With a deep breath, he began reading.

_John,_

_Or perhaps I should call you 'son'? I'm not sure which one anymore because…_

The chime rang drawing his attention to the fact that he'd lost track of time, having stood there staring at the pages in his hand for some time and Rodney was at the door.

Aiming his thumb over his shoulder, the physicist seemed put out. "Will you come _on?_ The rest of us are…what the hell is _that?_" Rodney pointed at the pages in John's hand.

"Nothing." John shoved the letter and envelop into the top drawer of his desk and followed his friend from the room not seeing a single sheet of paper flutter to the floor to be blown under the bed out of sight.

Events on the mission caused him to forget about the letter and what it might mean. Their fight with the crystal entity took precedence in his memory and he realized that there was more than a grain of truth to what his doppelgänger had said. The one thing he was afraid of more than clowns…was himself.

~~O~~

John had managed to stay occupied over the months leading up to the holidays with missions, daring rescues and amnesia caused by a mutated children's disease. If it hadn't been for Teyla and Ronon, none of them have survived. He'd even had a brief flirtation with the leader of the Travelers, Larrin. And though he was very much attracted to her and she to him, their lives were destined to lead them in very different directions. And when he'd kissed Larrin, it hadn't been her he was thinking about. It had been Kiana.

His radio crackled to life jerking him out of the slight funk he'd sunk into. Rolling off the bed, he reached for his radio knocking it under the bed. On his hands and knees, he felt around for it finding both the headset and a sheet of paper.

The call hadn't been anything important, but the paper was. It had been typed on a computer and the date at the top indicated it had been created just ten days after his return to Pegasus. He sat on the side of the bed and began to read.

_The Person I Admire Most_

_By Felicia Sheppard_

_The person I admire most after my mom and dad is my Uncle John. He's my dad's brother, a Lieutenant Colonel in the Air Force. I don't know what that means except that he's been a soldier for a long time and is very good at his job. Uncle John was hurt in an explosion and couldn't see when he first came home. He needed someone to help him find his way around and that was me. For a long time he was gone so every day we walked around the house, the garden or the stables so he would know how to find everything again._

_Not too long ago he stopped a bunch of guys from breaking into our house and saved me when my horse went crazy. I know you're going to say that soldiers do things like that all the time, but Uncle John did them while he was blind. _

_He likes to ride horses, Ferris wheels, go surfing, watch movies and kiss his girlfriend. Her name is Kiana and she really great! She's funny, smart-a doctor! And not mean about being smart like some people…_

John snorted thinking about Rodney and his need for contestant reassurances about his intelligence. And he could see Felicia glaring at a McKay wannabe in her class probably sitting in the front row so he could correct the teacher on some point or other that he or she may have misspoke about.

…_and she went riding with Uncle John even though she'd never been on a horse before. _

_But I think the best thing about Kiana is she loves my uncle. I could tell when I first met him that he's been lonely for a long time. And now that he has her, and us, his family, he's not lonely anymore…_

John stopped reading, thinking about himself as seen through the eyes of his niece. Hooking the headset over his ear, he tapped it once. "Sheppard to…"

"_Dr. McKay to Operations for an A-1 priority message! Dr. McKay!_"

Amelia's tone was tense. A-1 meant something incredibly bad had happened. He was out the door and running down the hall before the echo of announcement had faded to be there for his friend.

~~O~~

After leading a daring rescue of Rodney and Jeannie, John had convinced Henry Wallace to give up his life to save Jeannie's. And once he was certain the McKay siblings would be okay, he'd contacted Carter and submitted a request for an extended leave. It was the beginning of December. If he returned to Atlantis on the _Daedalus_, a three week trip, it would be time for him to turn around and come back for his promised visit with his family. If he stayed, he'd have more time to take care of a few pressing concerns that he'd been putting off for way too long.

The moment his requested was granted, he had Walter book him on a flight. He could have been dropped off by the _Daedalus_, but he wanted time to think, time to lay a few more of his demons to rest. Or at least put them down for a nap.

Not used to sitting still for so long, John got bored on the flight. He reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and pulled out Felicia's essay. It wasn't necessary for him to read it as he'd done so often enough that he knew it by heart. But he liked reading the words his niece had put down on paper about him. Through her eyes he'd come to know himself better, to see himself as others might, and he was no longer afraid of the man whose face stared back at him when he shaved or brushed his teeth.

The plane landed and he joined the throng as they were met by family, friends or colleagues. He collected his luggage and moved out to curbside where a car was waiting for him at the rental agency. He buckled the seatbelt then programed the GPS for his destination and pulled away from the curb.

Two hours later he was standing in a field of green dotted here and there with bunches of flowers, pieces of concrete and marble marking the resting places of generations gone by. Someday, he'd be in a place very similar to this and wondered what others would say about him when he was gone. Not that he cared though he was curious.

Crouching in front of the pink and gray marble headstone, John laid a bouquet of daisies at the base. "Sorry I haven't been around for a while. Work's been busy and yes, I do know that's not an excuse, but it's the only one I have at the moment. There's something I need to take care of and if you were here, I know you'd have advice on how to handle a situation. I've already let it go too long. Actually, there're several situations that have been bothering me for a while now. And yes, one of them is Dad. Guess I'll just have to do what Indiana Jones did and make it up as I go along. Uh, we all miss you." He stood, brushed the grass from his hands and bowed his head in a silent prayer. "Amen. I have to go now, Mother, but I'll be back soon. Love you." He touched the headstone reverently as he passed it on the way back to the car.

~~O~~

For Kiana, life went back to the way it had been before she'd ever met John Sheppard. Work filled her days and many of her nights, but not all of them. On the nights where she had nothing to do but sit home and watch television or work on the self-help book she was co-authoring, she missed him. His dry humor. His charm. His _hair_. The quiet times they'd spent together, the trip to the fair, horseback riding, surfing, dinners spent talking and laughing. His kisses. Pretty much everything about him, especially his bravery.

She knew many who refused to even try surfing and didn't know anyone, except John, who would've attempted it while blind. When she'd goaded him into it, she'd fully expected him to turn her down flat, but he'd done it and had fun. They both had. And she would always be in awe of the things he'd accomplished without the use of his eyes. It showed that he was adaptable.

She heard that he'd regained his sight though the circumstances were vague. It made her happy for him though it meant that he'd returned to his job, the one he couldn't talk about. She knew his job was dangerous, but such was the life of the men and women sworn to defend the freedom of the American people.

Many times she'd picked up the phone to call him, to apologize, though she didn't see why _she_ should apologize. _She_ had told the truth. It hadn't been at his father's request that he'd called him. The evening they'd spent together at the party had been enjoyable and she'd wanted to explore the possibility that they might be able to turn it into a friendship that could become more. And it had. For her at least.

Despite her profession, her ability to read people, Kiana still had no idea if he cared about her in the same way. She knew he was attracted to her and they'd had good times together. But had he fallen for her as well? If he had, would he have believed his father's lies?

She'd returned the money that Patrick had transferred into her account, closed that account and opened another in a different bank, one that she was fairly sure didn't have any connection whatsoever with Sheppard Industries. That didn't mean Patrick couldn't get the information if he wanted to, but there'd been no incursions into her new account in the weeks since she'd gone to his office and told him off. What had surprised her was his silence during her tirade. He'd listened patiently and when she was done, he'd offered her something to drink, which she accepted, escorted her to the door with a polite "Thank you for your time, Dr. Saito. I'll take everything you've said under consideration." And that was it.

Shoving her computer into its case, she zipped it with more forcefulness than necessary, hooked her purse over her shoulder, turned out the lights in her office then set the alarm before locking the door. Her office was on the second floor so she took the stairs down, waving to the guard at the desk as she pushed open the front door.

Pressing the remote to unlock her car, she jumped at the sound of a familiar voice behind her.

"Hey doc. Got a minute?"

She resisted reacting thinking she wanted to see John so badly that her mind was playing tricks on her. Taking a calming breath and putting on a welcoming smile, she turned.

**TBC**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N:** Final chapter, boys and girls. Many thanks again to ladygris for being a beauteous Beta babe. It was her encouragement that convinced me to write something so emotionally heart wrenching. If I didn't have her for a friend, my life would be so much less full.

Warning: Tissue/Mascara alert!

_Merci, Gracias and Namaste,_

~Sandy

**Broken Mirror**

**Chapter Fourteen**

Leaning up against the side of the building, hands in the pockets of his faded jeans and wearing that devilish grin stood the man Kiana loved. "John."

"How've been?"

"Not great, but not completely terrible. You?"

"Same." John pushed off the wall, his hands coming out of his pockets as he got closer, stopping just at the edge of her comfort zone. "I've been thinking. About us."

"Was there ever _really_ an 'us', John?" That took some of the wind out of his sails.

"That's what I wanna talk about." He glanced around at the people coming and going. "Could we go somewhere a little more private?"

Not quite ready to give in, Kiana shook her head. "I have plans tonight. Just say what you've come to say."

There was a long pause filled only with the sounds of the city winding down for the night. Then he shifted his feet. A signal that he was uncomfortable with expressing his thoughts. "An apology is long overdue."

Again he paused and it seemed as if he were waiting for her to speak, as if _she_ were the one who should be making amends. "Go on."

"I've been an ass."

"I agree."

"It's a start." One side of his mouth quirked upward just a little. "A lot of things have happened since we saw each other last."

Kiana set her laptop case and purse on the hood of her car and waited. He'd get to the point eventually.

"I, uh, I let the resentment and bitterness toward my father color what we had."

"And…?"

"It's interfered with my ability to create stable relationships. Not just with women, but with friends and family. Or so Doc Adams tells me."

Kiana's eyes wanted to widen in surprise. This was an enormous breakthrough for him. "John…"

He held up his hand. "Let me finish. _You_ have nothing to be sorry for. I, however, acted like a jerk."

"I…"

His head down, he interrupted her again. "And if you can find it in your heart to forgive me, I'd like to start over. Well, except for the being blind part."

"John!"

"What?"

She touched him on the hand forcing him to look at her. When he did, his hazel eyes were filled with emotions she'd never thought to see. Hope. Fear. And was that…love? "Shut up and kiss me."

John didn't need to be told a second time. He swept her close and kissed her with a hunger that she felt as well. But what neither of them had noticed is they'd gathered a small audience. The applause separated them. "Can we get out of here now?"

"Yeah. Follow me."

"Where we goin'?"

The smirk she'd learned from him twisted her lips. "My place."

~~O~~

Patrick opened his office door, his eyes on the sheaf of papers in one hand. As always he snarled the order. "Clara, tell David I want to see him."

"Excuse me?"

Looking up he saw a stranger sitting at his assistant's desk. The woman was five-nine, slim, dark-haired with a few white strands. Nothing at all like Clara's matronly figure and snow white hair. He guessed her age at early fifties. "Where's Clara?"

"Gone." She stood and extended her hand. "Sheila Hastings. Your new assistant."

"_Where_ did she go and _when_ will she be back?"

Sheila jabbed a thumb over her shoulder. "She took the last train to Clarksville." At his blank stare she explained. "Her last day was Friday. Clara retired and moved to Florida."

"Why didn't she _say_ something?" Patrick waved a hand. "Never mind. Just get my son in here." Sheila crossed her arms and assumed an air of extreme patience. "Well?"

"Well what?"

"I told you to…"

"Oh, I know what you _told_ me. I'm not a dog and don't respond well to barked orders. What's the magic word?" Patrick was so shocked that he just stood there and gaped at her for a full twenty seconds. Sheila huffed at him, her tone one used to speak to a child. "Please. The magic word is please."

"_Please?_"

"Good boy!" A brilliant smile lit up her face taking years off her age. "I would be _happy_ to get David for you, Mr. Sheppard." She returned to the desk as Patrick went into his office wondering what had just happened.

A few minutes later, David entered without knocking, carrying an iPad in one hand. "Who's the bulldog, Dad?"

"Sheila, Sherry, Shania. I forgot. Took Clara's place. Did you know she _retired?_" Unbuttoning his jacket, Patrick seated himself on the sofa facing two matching chairs with a low table between them and shelves built into the walls behind filled with books, potted plants and tchotchkes.

David chuckled. "Yes. We had a party for her while you were out of town." He took a seat in one of the chairs leaning back and crossing one leg over the other. Powering up the computer, he scanned through the files until he came to the one he wanted. "I spoke to Larson and his team and forwarded the file to you, but we need to go over…"

"That's not why I called you here."

His youngest son glanced up sharply, a frown replacing his usual intense stare. He closed the iPad and set it aside. "Okay."

"We need to talk about a few things."

"Like?"

"Like my most recent trip. I didn't go to Geneva."

The unreadable expression was back. "Go on."

Instead of answering, Patrick handed him the pages he still held. "Read this. It explains everything." He waited while David quickly scanned the pages.

"Dad, this says…"

"Yes. Now you know why it's been so important that we complete this merger. If word gets out about my illness, Sheppard Industries will take a nose-dive in the market. Thousands of people will be out of work. And not just from SI. El Povenir is what keeps Villa Estrella profitable. It's the largest employer in the area."

"Maybe you'd care to explain why you've been so adamant about helping them. Aside from…" he fluttered the papers still clutched in one hand.

"It something your mother was passionate about, the restoration of the forests and helping those who, through no fault of their own, are down and out. If you check with the CFO you'll find that 'we' have been funding several programs that assist the homeless with getting back on their feet. HomeLife and its sister programs are something she dreamed of starting before she became ill. This past year I've been working with Steve and Winfred Rutledge to get them off the ground. All the profits are poured back into the businesses. SI makes nothing from it."

"And the diagnosis. Is Henry certain?"

Pushing to his feet, Patrick went to the window that looked out over the downtown area of the city chuckling mirthlessly. "I made him do the tests four times. He's certain."

~~O~~

Rather than belabor his father's health, David changed the subject. "You said there were a few things you wanted to discuss."

Without turning, his father nodded. "I've set up trust funds for the kids which they will be able to access once they've completed college and either joined the company or have taken positions elsewhere as contributing members of society."

"There's more." David made it a statement.

Again Patrick nodded finally facing him again. "Your brother. There's so much I need to say to him, but he doesn't make it easy."

"To be fair, you haven't exactly been approachable yourself since Mother passed away."

"I know." Though it was still early, Patrick went to the bar and poured a small amount of scotch into a glass, swallowing a large mouthful. "I'm sorry for that. And if I had more time that is just _one_ of the things I'd change. Let's get started."

"Of course." David powered up the computer again closing the merger files and opening a new one.

~~O~~

Kiana's home was exactly what John would have expected if he'd bothered to picture it. All while they'd been together he was so caught up in trying to create an image of her in his mind that he hadn't thought about other aspects of her life. Watching her move about the room putting away her purse and computer he wondered how he could have been so wrong about her in every way.

Her home was modest. Three bedrooms, one of which had been turned into a home office and the third into a storage/workout room, the treadmill showing evidence of recent use. One and a half bathrooms, a small dining area and a moderately sized kitchen. In the living room, the fireplace was inset into the internal wall with comfortable furniture in natural colors grouped in front of it. An entertainment center blended in well with the décor and was barely noticeable until the doors were opened. The walls had been painted warm rust, a color that reminded him of Atlantis. It wasn't overpowering and rather calming. Paintings and photographs of what he assumed were her family and friends hung on the walls and perched on the mantel among knick-knacks that seemed to have sentimental rather than monetary value.

She had dark hair, longer now than when they'd first met. It was black and straight. Parted on the side, bangs swept across her forehead from right to left, a small lock falling away from the rest of the strands to touch the side of her nose.

Her eyes were very striking. They slanted upward slightly at the corners showing off her Asian ancestry though the color betrayed that she was also part Anglo. They were the color of the smoke from a forest fire. A gray that in just the time they'd been together today had changed from an ash gray to deep charcoal and every shade in between with the variations in her emotions.

Her figure wasn't slim for her height though he could tell she'd lost weight recently by the slightly baggy fit of her clothes. In bare feet, she came up to his collar bone, but in heels, the top of her head touched his chin.

He followed her into the kitchen as she fixed them each a cold drink. Seating himself at the island counter, he smiled when she set a tall glass of lemonade in front of him. Taking a sip, he waited to see if she would be the first to speak aside from the welcome he'd received when they first arrived. _Guess not._ He decided to just take the plunge. "There was an explosion on the base. People were killed, a good friend was severely injured. She survived because of Carson and his medical team. He was the head doc at our base.

"We discovered that a second bomb was about to go off and he was in the blast area. I went to pull him out, but didn't get there in time. The explosion killed Carson, the bomb disposal tech, and injured five others, including me."

Pausing, John took another sip of his drink, his eyes on the table in front of him. He glanced up briefly, but Kiana's expression was giving nothing away.

"I was…_am_ responsible for a good man and supremely skilled doctor being dead."

"Why?" It was a simple question, but not so simple to answer.

"I'm the military commander of the base. It's my responsibility to protect everyone, _including_ our commander. And because I wasn't fast enough, Carson and the others are dead."

"No. I meant _why_ is that your fault? Carson _chose_ to do what he did and from what you're not saying, I doubt you could have stopped him. Blaming yourself serves no purpose and I doubt that's what he would have wanted."

"Ronon said the same thing." John stood abruptly, going to stand gazing out the door into the back yard. A large tree stood off center casting cool shadows over a swing, table and chairs. Away from the house, a built-in barbeque squatted. In the far corner, a small stone fountain babbled down into a koi pond. He glanced over his shoulder then back to the view, his arms hanging at his sides.

"He's right. It's _not_ your fault that Carson died, John."

Anger swelled and without turning, his hands clenched into fists. "I _should_ have been able to stop it. Stop _him_. It's _my_ fault. _Mine_ and no one else's!" Stinging at the back of his eyes signaled the approach of tears. Desperate to get away before he broke down in front of her, John twisted the doorknob with more force than necessary managing to escape before his weakness was showcased to the woman he loved.

Once in the sun, he was able to get himself under control. Taking a deep breath, he threw himself down beside the tree, his back against its rough bark. Yanking a handful of grass, he tossed the strands one at a time. The breeze blew them away, but he didn't care. His emotions still threatened to get out of control and no amount of meditation would calm them. Only time could do that.

~~O~~

From the back door, Kiana watched John sitting under the tree. He needed her. Not as a therapist, but as the woman who loved and supported him. The woman who would hold him close when he was feeling vulnerable and sad. Just like now. And though it was difficult, she set aside Dr. Saito, the professional and brought out Kiana, the woman who loved him with all her heart. She had tried, but had not been able to convince herself to get over him and move on. Something she often advised her patients to do.

He was sitting with his legs bent, hands clasped together and arms resting on his knees, his head down so his face wasn't visible. She walked over and knelt next to him. Tentatively, she touched him on the hand. His arm twitched at the contact and as if her touch had been the trigger, he drew in a shuddering breath and was suddenly in her arms sobbing. No words were spoken between them. She just held him as he cried out his grief. When his tears finally tapered off and stopped, she loosened her embrace and he leaned back keeping his face averted as he wiped away the wetness with the tail of his shirt. "I'm…"

"Don't you _dare_ say you're sorry." Getting to her feet, she extended her hand and after a moment's hesitation, he took it. They walked back to the house hand in hand. Inside, she led him down the hall to her bedroom, kicked off her shoes then urged him to sit on the side of the bed. She untied the laces of his sneakers and pulled them off. Without being told, he lay down waiting for her to join him and when she did, he rolled onto his side pulling her close. Emotionally drained, he was asleep within minutes.

~~O~~

John awoke to darkness. Night had fallen while he slept and now shadows flitted across the ceiling.

Embarrassment swept through him at the memory of his emotional breakdown after talking about Carson and his part in the man's death. And Kiana had stayed, held him while he'd grieved for all the people he'd cared about and had lost over his lifespan. And the fact that she hadn't turned away in disgust made him love her even more, though he wasn't sure how that was possible.

Easing away so he wouldn't wake her, John went into the bathroom, emerging a short time later to quietly make his way out to the kitchen. He'd just finished off what was left of his lukewarm lemonade when Kiana's arms slipped around his waist from behind. She loosened her grip just enough for him to turn within the circle then tightened them again.

One arm around her waist, the other holding her against his chest, he kissed the top of her head. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

"Hungry?"

"Yeah. You?"

"Starving. Pizza? Chinese? Fast food?"

She brought her arms up between them to rest on his chest, her head tilted back so he could see her eyes and loving smile. "Anything. You pick."

~~O~~

John's arm around her shoulders and the remains of dinner scattered on the coffee table in front of them, Kiana sighed in contentment. When they'd been like this before, there had always been a slight bit of resistance as if he were holding something back. Now it was different. He was totally relaxed showing her he was committed to their relationship though neither of them had said the words yet. She wanted to tell him she loved him, but it was important that he be the first to say it. Important for his emotional healing. So she waited.

The movie they were watching ended. She shut it off and was startled when he suddenly scooped her onto his lap then got to his feet. Her arms went around his neck holding tight at the heady sensation of being carried. "John! What are you doing?"

He headed down the hall toward her bedroom. "I know it's been a while, but I'm pretty sure this is how making love starts."

Grinning against the side of his neck, she tightened her hold briefly. "This does seem vaguely familiar."

Using his foot to push the door open, he carried her over and laid her gently on the bed, following her down. They kissed, the sweetness blossoming into a passion Kiana had never felt before. It wasn't long before their clothes were scattered over the floor and they were engaged in a dance as old as time itself.

And when the end came for both of them, she cuddled against his side, his hand idling brushing up and down her ribs. She closed her eyes and just before sleep claimed them both, she heard John softly mutter the words she longed to hear.

"I love you."

**Atlantis**

**A Few Months Later**

Time. Yes, it can be an illusion sometimes. Now however, it was not. It was the bane of John's existence as he counted down the weeks and days until he would see Kiana again. He still hadn't been able to convince Carter, Woolsey, Landry and the IOA to allow him to tell her about the Stargate program and his part in it. If they didn't make a decision soon he'd just _do_ it and the rest of them be damned.

~~O~~

Having just finished a workout, John walked beside Ronon on the way back to their quarters.

"I watched it last night. There was hardly any fighting." He sounded annoyed and John didn't blame him.

"That's 'cause it's not _about_ fighting."

The big man snorted. "Then why's it called 'Blades of Glory'?"

"'Cause it's about _skate_ blades."

"And this is a real sport? Men and women dancing around on ice?"

John shrugged, his mind already composing his next email to Kiana. "Unfortunately."

Again Ronon snorted. "Your planet's weird."

"Mmm. You can say that again." They reached his quarters and John swiped his hand over the biosensor to open the door just as Carter walked up to them.

"Colonel." Both men turned to face her and John didn't like the troubled expression on his CO's face. "I was just coming to see you. Do you have a minute?"

"Yeah. Sure."

Carter glanced nervously at Ronon, unsure if she should be talking to John in front of him, but then continued. "I received a message from Stargate Command. I'm afraid I have some bad news."

"Okay." John prepared himself for yet another rejection of his application to have Kiana brought in as the staff shrink, totally unsuspecting of what Carter had to say.

"Your father suffered a heart attack last night. I'm sorry, John, but he passed away."

All he could do was stare at her, shocked.

~~O~~

John stood in front of the Stargate holding his duffle bag as the 'gate began to dial. Feeling more alone than ever and anxious to be with Kiana and his family, he was surprised when Ronon came to stand beside him also holding a bag. John looked up at him. "Where are _you_ goin'?"

Without looking at him, Ronon said, "With you."

The 'gate ka-whooshed and Ronon headed towards it without another word. John frowned though he was heartened at the gesture of friendship displayed by the Satedan as he followed him through the event horizon.

~~O~~

His room was dark though it was still day. Outside a storm was raging. Not as bad as the one that had caused the evacuation of the city the first year the expedition had been in Pegasus, but bad enough for the Athosians to be brought from the mainland.

John didn't care though. The weather suited his mood. He'd tried to talk to his father when he'd gone home for Christmas, but it hadn't worked out. They hadn't fought, not like in the past. Just a few differences of opinion. With all the holiday activities that had been planned there just hadn't been a good time for them to really sit down and converse in the way they really needed to. And now his father was gone.

At least he and Dave had talked things out and he had a better understanding of some of his father's thought processes.

The reading of the will was the hardest part. John had expected to receive only a token inheritance and was shocked to find out that his father had bequeathed him thirty percent of his estate with a thirty percent interest in the company. Nancy had been there as well. They'd had just a short time to talk before she was called back to DC on some Homeland Security emergency.

John had completely forgotten the letter he'd received from his dad just before their battle with the crystalline entity. He held in his hands now. Why he didn't just read it and get it over with he didn't know. Maybe because they were the final words of the man who'd given him life and he was ashamed that he hadn't read them before now. Or was it because reading them would essentially bring full circle the relationship he had with his father? Whatever it was, John had to deal with it if he wanted to be the man that Kiana needed him to be. The man that _Felicia_ thought he was. With the help of his family and friends, and Kiana, he was certain he'd make it one day.

Reaching out with his mind, he brought the lights up so he could see the words, his eyes falling on the painting propped against the dresser.

The SC in the lower right corner told him the artist's name was Shannon Coyle, a popular contemporary artist from Australia. She'd painted him wearing all black, a T-shirt in place of his uniform shirt, facing to the left with his head turned to look out at anyone looking in. Standing back-to-back with him was the unmistakable silhouette of Johnny Cash at the same age holding his guitar behind his back. It appeared as if each was a reflection of the other. It had been painted in black and white with one spot of color to draw the attention to the words written there.

_I Walk the Line_

According to Dave, his father had commissioned it just the year before. Probably about the time his doctor had first given him the diagnosis of his illness. With a deep sigh, he began to read.

~~O~~

_John,_

_Or perhaps I should call you 'son'? I'm not sure which one anymore because I've finally realized how bad a father I've been to you and for that I am incredibly sorry. We've spent so many years not speaking that when the time came for it we couldn't so I hope you'll forgive me for not giving you this news in person. I should have told you before you left, but I didn't know how. When I took all those business trips while you were here, I wasn't taking care of merger talks. _

_John, there's no easy way to say this, but I'm dying. The diagnosis doesn't matter at this point, just that I will be gone from this Earth much sooner than I ever expected. Mourn me if you can, but don't spend your life with the grief wrapped around you like a cloak. It only keeps others from getting close and that's not what life is about._

_Now let me explain about the snow globe and why it was so important. Your mother loved snow globes and I bought that particular one for her the day you were born. It was a reminder of the days we'd spent on vacation in Florence where you were conceived. And don't roll your eyes. Your old man is quite sentimental in his own way._

_Unlike the Chairman of the Board, I have more than a few regrets and one is the way I've treated you since your mother died. Though my actions are unforgivable, I hope you can let it go for the sake of your own peace of mind._

_An even bigger regret is the quarrel we had that kept us estranged for so many years. I will always feel great sorrow for the cruel and punishing things I said. My heartlessness and disregard for your feelings, wants and needs haunts me daily._

_When the announcement was made that you and Nancy were divorcing, I couldn't believe it as I'd thought the two of you were quite happy. She did her best to convince me that it was all her fault, but of course I knew better. I blamed you and you alone. _

_My son, the screw-up._

_My son, emotionally distant and never there when his wife and family needed him._

_My son, who had no idea what was best for him._

_And all that time I should have been boasting, telling anyone who would listen about my son._

_My son, the defender of freedom._

_My son, the protector of this great country and its citizens._

_My son…the hero…_

_My son...whom I love more than life itself..._

_**La Fin**_


End file.
